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The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva
Friday, March 18, 2005
It's Official
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Go Super Mom, Go!
I am officially not posting here anymore. I have entirely too much crap going on in my life to keep up two sites. Granted, it's just a copy and paste thing, but really...I'm just tired of having two blogs. I switched everything on Blog Explosion over to the other one, so it's official. Booyah.

Please please please please change my link in your blogroll, bookmarks, list, whatever you call it, to:

http://redneckdiva.blogspot.com

That's: The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva - Blogspot style.

Now, one last thing... once you've made the switch and have my new linky all fixed, drop me a line at either theredneckdiva@gmail.com or leave me a comment over at myBlogspot site.

Mmmkay?

Puh-lease!?

Thanks to everyone that visited this one! I hope you'll join me and the Diva family over at Blogspot for more of the same hilarity and insanity. It can only get better from here, friends. I hope anyway.

The Diva has spoken at 10:21 AM CST
Updated: Friday, March 18, 2005 10:35 AM CST
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Saturday in the house, I think it was the 12th of Ma-arrrrrrch
Mood:  cool
Topic: Go Super Mom, Go!
I have accomplished SO MUCH today! I'm exhausted and will probably die of anaphylactic shock tonight in my sleep, but dadgummit, I accomplished something! Lots of somethings actually.

The children, all five of them, woke up at the unGodly hour of 6am. That is just not right. They talked quietly for about 30 minutes and I kind of dozed in my bed and halfway listened to the silly conversations. But after half an hour they could be quiet no more and the screaming and squealing began in earnest. Agh. I got up with them. EVEN THOUGH last night I traded quickie sex with my husband for an hour's extra sleep this morning. I am so going to have to remember that he never keeps his end of the bargain. Ever. You'd think after having kids for 8 1/2 years I'd be keen to his fraudulent sex-crazed promises. I even tried to produce a tear or two, but it just didn't work. I was too tired to cry. I did whine, call him a rat bastard and stomped out of the room after I jerked the covers off of him, though.

It worked out better that I got up really. Even though it was hard getting started. I immediately started the tea brewing, then started a load of laundry. I emptied and reloaded the dishwasher, cleaned off the counter tops and table, then started making pancakes. The kids were faunching at the bit to get outside, so as soon as they finished breakfast I sent them outside. That was before 9. They were outside till nearly noon. They played in the "coop" for quite awhile. Then they played on Mr. Diva's trailer, turning it into a disco or something. Ab had her CD player outside and they were rockin' that trailer to beat the band. Then they decided to trap chicken hawks. We're down to 2 ducks (we started with 9) because of the chicken hawks. So the kids decided to rid the world of the heinous duck-eating chicken hawks. After they decided that the hawks were not going to play the way they wanted, they then moved out into the the small pasture and started digging up gopher holes. They got the dogs in on the action, too. That was pretty funny, I gotta say.

While they were completely entertained outside I decided that today I was getting rid of some stuff. Because of FLYlady, I have considerably reduced the amount of stuff in my house over the last 2 years, but today the stuff that was bugging me was books. And videos. I have been reading Stephen King books since I was 14 (That explains so much, yes I know) and have a vast collection. To be honest, I think I have every book he has written. Well, only for a little longer, because 3/4 of them are now in boxes awaiting pricing and relocation to the flea market. I got rid of some Louis L'Amour that we've been hanging onto forever and some others that have lost their allure for me. I managed to clean off 3 shelves in two bookcases and moved some things around, organized a bunch of stuff. Then I moved on to the video cabinet. (I alphabetized the videos, too. I felt so much better when that was done.) There are two trash bags full of videos sitting in my living room now awaiting the same fate as the books. Man, the living room was looking so good at that point, but the kids needed lunch and I had to quit. I usually lose my steam and quit, but for some reason after lunch I hit it again with the same energy.

I decided it was high time to give the entertainment center a makeover and pulled out the TV to find a half inch of dust on EVERYTHING back there. I'm sure that has to be a fire hazard of some kind. So I vacuumed it all really well, and then proceded to organize the mass of cords and cables back there. Whaddaya know, I pulled out two cords that were attached to nothing! Mr. Diva has an old Pioneer stereo that he bought back in the 80's. The early 80's. It doesn't have the sleek, rounded lines of new electronics, but had dangerously squared, pointy corners. It also came with a turntable, if that dates it for ya. It weighs approximately 12 tons. Well, at one time everything was hooked up to the stereo speakers for a redneck version of surround-sound. Then suddenly it quit working and we re-routed. But that also left a useless dinosaur of a stereo in the cabinet. Mom had bought me a 5-CD changer a few years back to go with that system, since we have no records. Okay, so we have a few, but they're On Top of Spaghetti and YMCA. But what good is a 5-CD changer if the stereo doesn't work? Mr. Diva refused to help me move it because I think he knew that I'd ask if we could get rid of that boxy ugly thing. And the changer. And I would've, to be honest. So out it goes today. I pulled it out, nearly gave myself a hernia doing it, moved my nice new light stereo from my office to the living room, put it all back together and then blew my nose again for the 900th time. Dust sucks.

I then plugged the stereo and changer in so I could get to all the components and see exactly what was plugged in where and maybe I could figure out why it wasn't working. And I did. I'd forgotten that three of the four speaker pluggy inny things don't work. Lightning or something, he says. But how does lightning blow out three speaker plugger inners and not the other one, not to mention all the other electronics plugged in as well? He doesn't know what happened to it, but he likes to make me think he does. So anyway, somehow, someone had plugged both speakers into the ones that don't work. Okay, so now I have out here in my office a ginormous circa-1980-something Pioneer stereo system with a 5-CD changer and one speaker. But I gots tunes, baby, I gots tunes.

I am going to make a prediction right here and now on my blog for all of the 'net to see:
Mr. Diva will not notice any of the changes I've made in the living room today.

It's now 6:38pm, I'm still in my pajamas. I have tissues stuck in my nostrils to keep the torrents of snot from drowning me. My left index finger is super glued and looks like plastic. (It is not possible for me to super glue anything without subsequently gluing myself in the process. It's just not possible.) My right index finger is cracked open and bleedy-ish. My right middle finger is also cracked open and it's wrapped up in a tissue so I don't ruin my keyboard. My children are filthy, but they are having a ball playing "karate" in the living room,wearing only their underwear. Mr. Diva is still at work and will be clocking out in 45 minutes and I have no clue what I'm going to do with the chicken that is thawed out in my refrigerator as far as dinner goes. My eyes are crossing as I type because I am exhausted. And I think I have burned my lungs with the Orange-scented Pledge I've sprayed repeatedly all day long.

But Mr. Diva is SO not getting sex tonight Because as part of the agreement we made last night, the whole quickie sex trading for an hour of sleep, was also contingent on real sex tonight, not a quickie. But since I didn't get to sleep in this morning, he's not getting real sex tonight. That'll learn 'im.

The Diva has spoken at 6:54 PM CST
Friday, March 11, 2005
When I was a kid, Spring Break was more exciting
Mood:  spacey
Topic: Kids & other noisy things
Another dual post. There is a little more to this post on my Blogspot site, but it's not much. I'm just really tired now, dadgummit.

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Today was Freaky Hair Friday at school. Stu-co Spirit Week or something. Sam sported a mohawk. Abby had twisty nubbin things all over head. We went after school from Fairland to Miami. With mohawk boy and nubbin girl. Oh the looks we got.

Of course, the looks could've possibly been because I had five, count 'em five, kids hanging off of my cart like maggots on a carcass. All squirmy and wiggly and movin' around incessantly. My husband, being the darling he is, said I looked like a trailer park ho with that many kids. Thanksbabyloveyoutoo. Dooderhead.

I saw Stormie, another GS leader in our service unit, and she said I was brave. I replied that no, I was insane. (Hi Stormie!)

When it was finally time to check out, the kids helped me put the stuff on the conveyer belt and then I took the mobile ones and lined them up in front of the counter of the in-store bank like they were getting ready to be part of a police line-up. I put them boy-girl-boy-girl and put their backs against the wall and told them if they moved they would NOT get to go to the video store. I walked back to the register and threw them all a really threatening glare. The cashier said, "Wow, I'm impressed! We hardly ever see kids who do what their parents say up here." And my first thought was, "Thank God you didn't see them in the cereal aisle then." I just smiled and said thank you, though. Hey, let her believe that well-behaved children DO exist. At least for awhile. She was only 20-ish, she'll have to quit believing in such fairy tales soon.

I saw a precious Menonite woman and her two adorable boys at the store tonight. As I trudged through the store in my wind pants (Which are too long and I step on them constantly which drives me batshit, but what do you do when you're only 5'2"?) and frizzy hair and noisy children hanging off my cart and I exchanged polite smiles and hellos with her, I almost longed for a little white bonnet thing and black panty hose. But then I remembered that panty hose suck.

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This morning as I had just stepped out of the shower I heard the kids doing their morning stuff. It was obviously KD's turn to pick out the morning music because rather than the Kidz Bop Kids singing horrible renditions of Kelly Clarkson and Hoobastank songs, we were listening to Mary Had a Little Lamb sung by Minnie Mouse. How refreshing. I was praying for the Kidz Bop Kids again. I had just flipped my hair up into a towel and was putting on my moisturizer when I heard Sam walking up and down the hall yelling, "Freak love! Get yer freak love here! FREAK LOVE! Fuh-freak Love!! Who wants a freak love?" I was furious that my son, who is only 6, knew about freak love and was even advertising it and WHERE the hell did he learn that shit anyway? I threw open the bathroom door and said, "WHAT did you say?" He meekly held up a glove and said, "Free glove, Mom?"

The Diva has spoken at 11:27 PM CST
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Mmmm....Little Debbie is one talented woman
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: Rambling much
Right now I'm doing dual posts here and on Blogspot until I get all 200-some odd posts transferred over there. I have traffic here and I hate to leave that traffic just yet. Self-absorbed? Yes, much.

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Many thanks to McKenzie's mom for bringing Little Debbie to our Brownie meeting today! The girls only ate the box of brownies, thus leaving an entire box or Easter Basket cakes to just sit and go stale before our next meeting, week after next. SO, being the smart woman I am, I decided to just eat the box of Little Debbie's (Not the entire box by myself!) and then replace it with a new, fresher box by next week's time. What's that you say? You say that Little Debbie cakes have a shelf life of approximately 47 years? Ohhhhhhhhh .... whaddaya know.

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Also, many thanks to Riley's mom for bringing me a little monetary bonus this evening for my "trouble". I tried to convince her that it's no trouble to be a Brownie leader and I LOVE what I do, but she insisted. I pick Riley up every week on Brownie day from school and bring her out here and I guess Mel thought that was trouble. I wouldn't do it if I didn't really want Riley to be in my Troop.

Selfish Vacation Fund now stands at $140. Yesssssssssssssss.

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Did you know that if you have a mouthful of Little Debbie Easter Basket cake in your mouth and then take a huge drink of iced tea that it forms a rather thick coating on the roof of your mouth? Yummy.

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My mom's in Virginia with my Papa and GG visiting with GG's family through next week. GG's from down there originally and the rest of her family is still there. Hey, her family bought their plane tickets, so why not go? I just wish they'd though to include Cousin Diva. I mean, it's not like I know them or anything, but I like to travel, too! I could get to know them if they bought me a plane ticket. And then, and correct me if I'm wrong in my geography, but I think Richmond is close enough to Cousin Stacey that I could just jaunt over and see her! I miss Cousin Stacey. Completely different side of the family, but that doesn't matter. Hey, I'll even stoop to using non-blood-related step-family members to get what I want. I mean, it's Cousin STACEY, for cryin' out loud! And we are twins. Separated at birth. It's creepy. Of course, if we really ARE twins separated at birth, then that means that there was some hanky panky at a family reunion or something and I'm just not sure I'm ready to go there. So I'm content with saying she's my "Soul Sista" and call it good. Right, Stacey? (Girl, you could comment you know)

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BEST PART OF THE DAY: I won Round 19 of the Story Contest at Fizzle and Pop! I won!!! I've two- and three-way tied before, but I actually WON this one all by myself. I'm pretty proud, I gotta say. I only won by one point, but I won, dadgummit. I've already submitted my words for the next round. Here's how it works, the winner of the previous round submits 6 words (sometimes more when Angela is feeling nasty) and then everyone has to write a story using those words. I am particularly evil and these are the words for Round 20:
moratorium
plethora
bunch
pickle
demise
discipline
Hee hee, told you I was evil.
So if you're feeling particularly literary and want to try your hand at writing with us, go for it! It's fun and we only bite when provoked. Well, Wenchbites all the time, but she's really good at it! *wink*

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We made Goop at Brownies tonight. You know, that cornstarch and water concoction that is a solid, yet it's a liquid. I think Magnet Lady and I had more fun with it than the girls did! We couldn't keep our hands out of it! We kind of messed up and added too much cornstarch at one point and it turned into concrete, but we fixed it and had a blast. I ended up dumping the contents of the bowl onto the table and we drew in it, smeared it around and covered our hands with it. Definitely going to keep that one in mind for rainy days when the kids are driving me batshit. Make a batch of Goop, dump it on the table and let 'em have at it. It's good to be the Mommy.

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Speaking of being the Mommy. Beth over at Crazy Us wrote the most wonderful post today about being a parent. It was precious. Read her post please. Heck, read her whole blog. She's a wonderful writer, a good momma and well, simply amazing. My comment to her post on parenting was:

"It's kind of a whooshy, gooshy, bumpy, whirly roller coaster ride that you're not quite sure it's going to be fun while you're standing back there
looking at it, yet you know you want to try it, and when you finally try it it's super fun and even though you get nauseous a few times you still cackle like a loon through the entire ride, crying because you want off but it's too much fun, but you're scared and you're exhilarated and whoosh...


all too soon it's over."

I thought that was a pretty good description of parenting. Except, most of the time instead of me actually puking I get to clean up someone else's.

The Diva has spoken at 10:53 PM CST
Super Mom ( a story )
Mood:  lyrical
Topic: Writer's block banished!
This is my story for the latest story contest at Fizzle and Pop. Let me know what you think!

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Janelle woke to the sound of the alarm clock blaring just inches from her head. She squinted her eyes shut when she found the glaring light of day to be too much, then slowly moved her hand from under the covers and smacked the snooze button as hard as she could. She opened one eye and nearly screamed when she was visually assaulted by her three year old’s nose consuming her field of vision. "Good GOSH, Meredith! Do you have to get so CLOSE when you wake me up?" The fuzzy-headed preschooler giggled and began a labored climb up the side of her parents’ bed. She vaulted over her mother and landed between the groggy, half-awake mother and the still-snoring father and laid there happily in the warmth between the two of them.

Janelle sighed and rolled over towards the middle of the bed. She curled around her youngest child, who snuggled in cozily. "Mere, we gotta get up. And I don’t wanna," she spoke into the mass of tangled curls on top of her child’s head. "I don’t wanna either, but my tummy wants a Pop-tart. So we gotta," Meredith replied. And in one smooth motion, the all too energetic child burst from under the covers, causing her father to groan and cover his head. "Roger, you need to get up, too. Now," Janelle said as she stifled a giggle and jerked the covers all the way off his underwear-clad body and ran from the room. She didn’t stop running until she reached the kitchen, where she flipped on a light and began making enough noise to wake the dead. Soon, her two sons staggered, not unlike zombies in a horror film, into the yellow kitchen and rubbed their eyes slowly. Zac, the oldest, laid his head on the table and immediately began snoring. Janelle shook her head as she watched Zane, who was awake enough to begin his mischief for the day. Her youngest son took advantage of his unaware brother by shaking salt onto his head which was as full of messy curls as Meredith’s. Poor Zac had no clue. She gave Zane a faux stern look and then focused her attention back to the coffee pot, the appliance that would soon bring forth the life-giving fluid that fueled her days.

Once the coffee pot started gurgling it’s morning song, she pulled out the toaster and stuck two strawberry Pop-tarts in for Meredith, pushed the lever sending them into the fiery depths of toaster-dom, then walked over to the table where Zac was still snoozing on his folded arms. She gently rubbed his back, the way she’d done since he was a baby, trying to coax him into a state of happy wakefulness, rather than the surly way he woke up on his own. He shifted a little in his seat and peeked one eye open at his mother. "Mum, do I hafta go to school today? I’m kinda feelin’ tired. No, sick. Yeah, I’m feelin’ sick. I think I have a fever. Really." Janelle smiled at her handsome 15 year old, shook her head and squeezed his shoulder. "Well, I tried," he said with a sigh and got up from the dining room chair. He stood and patted Janelle on the top of her head, since at 15, he already was tall enough to tower over his petite mother. "I’m off to get ready. Cook, I’ll have two eggs, over easy, 3 and one half slices of bacon - not too crisp, mind you - and an ice cold glass of milk for breakfast. And you’ll kindly have it ready upon my return." He snapped his fingers and Janelle, threw a potholder at him, as he stood in the doorway doing his best to imitate a spoiled rich kid, something he was definitely never going to be. "Zane, go get ready for school. Is it presumptuous of me to figure you want the same breakfast your socialite brother ordered, eh? Or would you prefer the breakfast your oh so finicky sister requested?"and, as if on cue, the toaster popped up two steaming hot Pop-tarts. "Mmmmm, hot preservative-filled jam, smeared between two slices of dry pastry, brimming with carbs. The breakfast of champions, Mom. Super." She threw the companion pot holder at her youngest son.

"Roger! Get UP! Egg number two is in the skillet RIGHT NOW and you are going to be late for work!" She heard her husband’s dresser drawer slam in response, letting her know he was indeed up, but probably not too happy about it. She put two slices of bread in the toaster, hit the button, then flipped the egg in the skillet. Meredith sat at the table, clad in her Blue’s Clues pajamas and pink feather boa, happily coloring in her Strawberry Shortcake coloring book, Pop-tart crumbs stuck to her cheeks, humming "Jesus Loves Me". Janelle’s breath caught in her chest, suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of sheer happiness. Her life was perfect at that moment.

Breakfast was a non-stop hurricane of noise and activity, as her husband and two sons attacked the hot breakfast with the energy of ravenous cavemen fresh from the hunt. Meredith sat in her daddy’s lap while he ate, tickling his neck with the feathers she wore, giggling when he acted like it didn’t bother him. Janelle leaned on the bar and watched her family with a half-grin on her tired face. She always enjoyed watching the boys interact with each other and was glad their father was a part of their lives. He had always been aloof and stingy with his feelings, something she as a young bride had worried was going to cause problems when they had children, but when Zac entered their lives, a red-faced squalling infant, right there in the delivery room, the barriers that had held Roger’s emotions at bay for years, was broken. He instantly became a sensitive, emotional man who realized daily the blessings he had in his wife and now, years later, three children. He looked over at her, staring at him, and winked. He was a lucky man.

He thought she looked tired, but figured she really was just that - tired. She ran herself ragged, running the house with efficiency that knew no bounds, kept track of countless school and social activities for the boys, volunteered at Meredith’s preschool, helped with the boys’ Scouts projects, was always a gracious hostess when Roger asked her to entertain and seemingly had an inability to tell anyone no when they asked of her. He made a mental note to look into a weekend away for the two of them, possibly that weekend. He would call his mother on the way to work to see if she could keep an eye on the kids and began planning in his mind a weekend for his beautiful wife that would allow her to rest and enjoy herself.

"Boys, we need to go," he hollered down the hall, while he helped Meredith with her coat. "Nelle, I’ll take Mere today, okay? You can pick her up this afternoon, but I think you need to rest this morning," he said, but when he saw her emerge from their bedroom looking radiant and positively glowing, he added, "Well, you did look tired, but you don’t now. Wow." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him and smiled her trademark half smile. "I’m Super Mom. I don’t get tired. And my kids need me." Then she picked up her purse, called to the boys which caused what sounded like a stampede, took Meredith’s hand and headed toward the door. "I’ve got things under control, Rog. Now, you go to work and be a hero. We’ll see you tonight." But Roger felt like he needed to give her the morning off. He insisted she stay home, put on her sweats, lay on the couch and watch a movie or something. Maybe call a friend or her mother. Read a book. "Nelle, I have it under control. Just rest, k? You can resume your Super Mom-ish duties at 1, when it’s time to pick up Meredith. In the meantime, take a break." She tried in vain to convince him she was fine, but in the end she relented, although she wasn’t really tired. The thought of talking on the phone to her best friend for more than 5 minutes and for more than a recipe swap did sound good, though. She kissed the kids, kissed Roger once more, then watched them pull out of the driveway.
The highway patrolman said Roger’s car had crossed the center line and the semi driver had no time to swerve to miss him. The paramedics knew immediately that Roger had suffered a major stroke the minute they saw the slack muscles on the left side of his face.

What happened in the weeks to follow the funeral are still a mystery. It seemed Janelle grieved quietly as she watched those around her tend to her duties, the ones that she normally handled with ease and temerity. She took the sedatives her mother handed her with no argument. She was afraid to know what she’d feel if she came out from under the veil of the medicated fog they had her in. She sat stoically and tearless while those around her, consoled, sympathized and offered prayers and thoughts. She watched numbly from the limousine as the four hearses pulled into the cemetery.
When the last person left and she was alone for the first time, the quietness of the house was too much. She picked up her car keys and walked out the door. Her purse sat on the table by the door.

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"Miss Jane, you sure are lookin’ pretty today," chirped the nurse who opened the mini-blinds, flooding the room with morning light. "It’s supposed to be nearly 70 degrees today, girl! I think this is a perfect day for you to get some sunshine on that pretty face of yours. The jonquils are starting to bud, the birds are downright twitterpated and it’s nearly Spring!" Barbara straightened the covers on the bed, talking nonstop the whole time about nothing in particular, but making it seem happy nonetheless. She veritably attacked the young woman’s hair with a brush, smoothing the tangled curls into submission, but barely. She took a warm, wet cloth and carefully, gently washed the smooth, beautiful, but always sad face of the woman who was younger than herself. She was face to face with her, and pleadingly she said, "Jane, if you would just talk to us...please honey? There has to be something going on in that head of yours. There has to be someone out there that misses you, sweetie. Please talk, please." But her pleas were met with nothing more than a blank stare from the young woman who sat in her chair, day after day, occasionally crying softly, but never speaking.

Oh, her thoughts were lucid enough. She knew what was going on around her. She knew her name was Janelle Cleary and she was 35 years old. She knew she was in a nursing home in Mobile, Alabama, some 1500 miles from her home. She knew she had driven till her car ran out of gas nearly 6 months ago and wandered into a hospital ER one day after 2 weeks on the street. She spoke once when she said, in response to a query about her name, "I'm Super Mom," and as a single tear made it's way down her pale cheek she finished, "But now I’m tired and my kids don’t seem to need me anymore."


The Diva has spoken at 10:43 PM CST
Tuesday, March 8, 2005
A sampling of rambling
Mood:  hungry
Now Playing: A turkey call on the Outdoor Channel
Topic: Rambling much
Sunday night Sis and I went to the Lucky Turtle casino for $10 free play in our pj's. I won $15. So last night I lost my $10 free play at the Big Fancy Casino like in about 10 minutes. I NEVER take my purse into the casino because if there happens to be any money in it I'll be tempted to spend it. Last night I took my purse. That $15 I won at the Turtle was calling out that it missed being in a slot machine and wanted to go home. So I sent it home.

There are three games that I really like to play. Two are penny machines. Just slot-type games that you can waste a lot of time, if you choose to be cheap and only bet pennies, and not a lot of money on. The other one I like is Red Ball. The Red Ball machines are hard to come by. None of the casinos around here keep too many in house. Why I have no clue because THEY ROCK. On Ladies' Night your chances of getting on a Red Ball machine before 10 are slim to none. So after about 10:30 I went on a mission to find me some Red Ball. I found one. I put in $10 and started out playing Blackjack first. This is what I do when I'm playing on money that I won. Because Blackjack is a fickle game, my friends. Well, the gods of Blackjack were shining their favor down on me last night and while I didn't just blow the world away with multiple Blackjacks, I did beat the dealer 9 times outta 10. I got my $10 up to $19, played back down to $15 and then switched to Red Ball. I have certain numbers I always play on Red Ball, at least to start. It's a keno-type game, hello random chance. I always use 6, 25, 64, 42, 1, 21, 73. (Should I actually tell you this? Does this decrease the luck in the numbers? Has anyone watched Lost lately? Hmm...) And I usually start out betting .15 a roll. First hit I got the bonus spin and I was excited. Things looked good already. But the most exciting thing is when you get a bonus spin off of a bonus spin. Then it pays big. I won 130 nickles! That's 6.50, people. I was livin' large. I won 75 nickles. I won 10 several times. Then I bonus spun off the bonus spin again. Another 130 nickles. I upped my bet to a quarter at one point, then back down to .15. It's a science. I think. All told I got up to $23.75 and cashed that puppy out. So I now had $28.75 because I hadn't spent the last $5 of the Lucky Turtle money. I got my cash and then watched Angie play awhile (She won $368 last night, lucky chick) then decided to try a different Red Ball machine. Shoulda known better. It ate $5 in 5 minutes. The bastard. Then I couldn't help it, I played the $3. But I left the casino with $20 and that's $5 more than I went in with. It was a good thing. I now have $120 towards Branson. I'm still taking donations, too.

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Okay, so I made a new blog over at Blogspot today. http://redneckdiva.blogspot.com Check it out and tell me what you think. It's pretty okay really. I like the template and it's just as easy as Tripod to use. I haven't done much with it, but it seems user-friendly. Well, except for Hello. Which is what you use to post pictures over there. It nearly made me cry this morning. I couldn't make it do what I wanted for nothin'. My main concern is that switching over there I am losing nearly a year's worth of archives, a year's worth of hilarious and heartfelt mommy stories and musings. This last year chronicled quite a bit ya know. I hate to lose that. Anyone have a solution? I know I can always keep this as an archival site, but what a pain. Hmmm...any thoughts would be appreciated.

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Tonight was finance class. I think at one point my brain began smoking slightly. It was the class about investments. Yikes. But now I can actually tell you what a mutual fund is. AND I know what a growth stock mutual fund is as well. I seriously doubt that comes up in casual conversation in the circles I run, but just in case it does, I am so there. We stay at home moms rarely delve into stocks, annuities and mutual funds convo, but stranger things have happened. We're not all oatmeal heads. Close, but not all the way there anyway. I also know that I have a lot of research to do in the next month or so because we're nearly to the point where we're ready to begin investing. Glory be.

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Tomorrow is Ab's six month eye exam. She hasn't complained so I'm hoping that her eyes have slowed down a bit. Bless her heart, she got glasses in April of her Kindergarten year. She went almost a year with those before she started complaining of headaches. Upon examination the doctor found her glasses to be less than half what they needed to be. At first I was ready to pounce all over the last eye doctor we had used, but the new dr said it was just a case of bad genes, not poor examining. Poor kid. So this new doctor sees her every six months and every time, her eyes have gotten worse. Usually quite a bit, too. Mine were the same way though. Heredity's a bitch. My gray hair and horrible eyesight's a testimony to that fact.

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On a really cool, awesome happy note: Sis and Bub sold their house!

They're moving in with Mom. For probably a year. Mom wouldn't have offered if she didn't want them to be there, but y'all know as well as I do, throwing family of four into house with single Grammy is bound to be a reality show all it's own. I told Sis tonight that if we had the room, they could live with us. She didn't respond. I broke the silence with, "Yeah...but ya know...one of us would end up dead." She said, "Whew! Glad you were thinking that, too!" So I'm just going to help her move. I figure that's healthier for all those involved.

***************************************

Sunday the temp here got up to 75. Today it barely got over 50. Tomorrow it will be 43 and we have a chance of snow. Next week is Spring Break. When Ab and Sam were little, two years in a row we got our heaviest snowfall over Spring Break - one year, over two feet. I kind of figured that would happen this year since we've gotten all of 3 inches all winter. But I checked weather.org today and it's supposed to be really nice and by the end of the week temps in the 70's again. It's no wonder we are all sick. No one's felt it necessary to stay in the house with temps as nice as we've had. Grr....I hate germs.

*************************************

Speaking of germs....would y'all hop on over to Courtney's blog and drop her a little get well note, wouldya? She's super sick with what seems to be double ear infections. I offered her the magic ear drops Abby got over the weekend last night and she called me this morning, taking me up on that offer. She had valiantly gone to school, but when the barfing began, she gave it up. I met her in the yard with the magic ear drops and a bottle of Tylenol w/codeine since no one in this house can take the vile stuff. 3 out of 5 of us are allergic to it. So she might as well use it. I hope she went straight to bed after medicating the hell out of herself. She hasn't posted today, so that must mean she's really sick. But drop her a line and wish her speedyquick recovery, k?

The Diva has spoken at 10:52 PM CST
Dooder confusion
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: Complete utter nonsense
Remember a few weeks ago when my sister had the flu and I was watching Cute Baby? Well, one morning when Cute Mommy, who has the most adorable southern accent I've ever heard, was leaving she said, "Aoh and bah the wayyy...hay's got a liddle raysh own he-is dooder." Translation: The kid had a rash on his dooder. Okay, that's all well and good, except I had no earthly idea what a "dooder" was. Was it his chubby little buns? Was it his twig and/or berries? Agh, what in the world was a dooder?? This is something I should've actually clarified with her before I let her walk out the door. But, being Super Mom and all, I just nodded and said, "Gotcha. Rash. On dooder. K." I mean, hey, I've been doing daycare since I was 18. Rashes I can handle. Even on dooders.

So the first diaper change rolled around and I was eager to dispell the mystery of the dooder. I exposed the diaper-covered nether regions of Cute Baby to find that his entire erm...area down there was rashed! So much for figuring out what the hell a dooder was. I smeared diaper rash cream all over that kid's buns, twigs, berries, lions and tigers and bears. Ohhhhhmy.

Well, of course, when Sis was well again I had to share the absolute adorable-ness of Cute Mommy's notification of a dooder problem. By this time I had concluded on my own that a dooder was indeed a behind. I mean, it just made sense to me. Although, I never verbalized my findings to anyone - I just passed on the story.

Last night when I finally found Sis at the casino, lo and behold she was with Cute Mommy. Pleasantries were exchanged: "How's Cute Baby?" "Aoh, hay's fan." "Great! He sure is cute. Have you won anything yet?" "Na-oh. Nawt a thang yay-et. Hay-ev yaou?" "Not yet. Just got here." Etc, etc. Then Sis fesses up that she told Cute Mommy that I told her about the dooder. Great. Cute Mommy is all of 22 years old. I am 10 years older than her and for some reason I find myself wanting to maintain as many cool points as possible around her. Great. So Heather has spilled her guts regarding my amusement at the dooder.

Keep in mind that I have since started calling everyone a "dooder head". The kids call each other dooder head. They call their father a dooder head. In my mind since a dooder is a butt, a dooder head is a butthead.

Then Cute Mommy says, "Aoh, mah gawsh...Ah cayn't bay-leeve Ah aycshooly sayad dooder to yaou! But Ah jayst wusn't shoore ayf ayt was aokay to drawp the "Pay" word." Translation: FOR THEM THE DOODER IS THE "P" WORD. Dooder = penis.

Oh heavenly days -

My children have been calling their father and each other dick heads.

The Diva has spoken at 10:23 AM CST
Updated: Tuesday, March 8, 2005 10:25 AM CST
Monday, March 7, 2005
I accomplished so much today
Mood:  chillin'
Topic: Rambling much
We eliminated one chunk of debt this morning. The guy that bought the truck met us at the bank. He handed the loan officer a cashier's check to pay off our loan then handed Mr. Diva a check for the balance. We signed over the title and got the heck outta Dodge. Well, we left after I told the loan officer while I was shaking his hand to kindly take that payment book and shred the hell out of it. He thought I was funny. I'm cute that way. Charming as hell and quickly on my way to financial peace.

Hooooooaw!

We then went to the other bank and I opened up my Girl Scout checking account now that I have cookie money out the wazoo. Agh, the cookies. I dream of Tagalongs and Samoas, people. I'll be glad when the cookies are gone from my house. Of course, then I'll just have the extra ass to remind me of the good times we had with the cookies. Anyway, then we deposited that truck check into our personal checking account with much delight. It was a good thing.

We drove directly to the insurance agent and paid the insurance on the cycle since it's getting to be that time of year. You know what time of year - the time of year where any time Mr. Diva is out on the motorcycle and the telephone rings I answer it in fear that I'll hear what I heard on July 3, 2003 - the sound of an ambulance siren and Mr. Diva's friend screaming into the phone that Mr. Diva had been hit by a car. Yeah, that time of year. I can hardly wait. It ranks right up there with fucking Thanksgiving. So that done, we then had a celebratory lunch at Long John Silver's, which is roughly equal to a high colonic to me. I love their chicken (Chicken at a fish place? How dare I?) but it's rough on the ol' intestinal tract. Kady thought she was in hog heaven, eating in a restaurant again. Abby and Sam were so jealous even though they hate LJS. We then went to the tag office and got the cycle tags in anticipation of the next wreck.

I just had so much to do when I left the house this morning, so much that I had to carry a folder with me! Just silly little errands, but things that had to be done. They were all accomplished and I felt like my day was good. I was at peace. I was still sore from the morning's tickling smackdown, but the day was still good.

Oh I forgot to tell y'all - Paul bought a small flat-bottom aluminum boat AND motor yesterday for $100. The neighbor lady is selling her place and kind of liquidating her stuff a piece at a time. The neighbor got a trailer cheap and we got a boat cheap. Paul was so proud of that purchase, still is. He and his friend, Robert, are out there right now putting a new board or something in it. They've been playing with it all afternoon. It really was a good deal. We were figuring it would cost us $400 or $500 to get him a nice boat and it was going to have to wait till next summer. But this boat just kind of happened and we really feel it's a blessing from God. Like He's saying "Well done, my children. You don't eat out anymore, you cut up your credit cards. Here, have a boat." Hey, whatever The Big Guy wants to send our way.

We were driving home this afternoon and I said, "You know, with all this money in my purse, I have this overwhelming urge to just go get a new tattoo." Paul said, "Hey now...I thought we were attaining financial peace here! What's up with this tattoo business? Delayed gratification is what you've thrown at me for weeks now, right?" I said, "Yeah...but you got a new boat and I'm feelin' all left out. My tattoo won't cost $100. Can I? Puh-leeeeeeeeeease???" He said, "No. No tattoos right now. I'm just going to give you $100 towards your little Branson getaway next month." I nearly caused us to wreck when I grabbed him around the neck and hugged him.

I have been telling him for a few weeks now that I'm feeling "that way" again. It happens in the fall and again in the spring. Stay at home mom goes berserk. Stay at home mom begins yelling more. Stay at home mom initiates shut-down mode. Stay at home mom is no good to anyone. So I run away. I spend two nights away from home. Alone. This time I'm going to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat in Branson. I told y'all that last week, right? Yeah...I did. So anyway, the deal was that I could go as long as I didn't use the household money to go. Now I've got $100 towards it. Stay at home mom is feeling like she will survive once more.

Oh and also, I won $15 last night at the Lucky Turtle's pj party. Sis won $12 on her first spin, the lucky dog. I won my $15 playing (Yah Yah) Yahtzee. I cashed out speedy quick. Sis cashed hers out, too. But she played most of it again. Not me. So technically I have $115 towards my trip. Yessssssssss.

Tonight's Ladies' Night, too. Dare I hope?

The Diva has spoken at 5:41 PM CST
Updated: Monday, March 7, 2005 5:43 PM CST
Anyone wanna be an heir to my vast fortunes?
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: All in the family
Okay, this is the kind of sadistic household I live in. There is no loyalty here, people. I gave birth to those children, yet they TURNED on me in a heartbeat. I am so going to remember this one when they come begging for something like a NEW CAR. And MONEY. Geesh.

This morning, Mr. Diva woke me up with his usual fondling attempts. Agh, I abhor morning sex. It just doesn't happen in the Diva household. Ever. So after about 20 minutes of him pestering the living shit out of me I grabbed his arm, dug in my fingernails and said "If you do not stop rubbing on me I will kill you this very minute. I am not kidding, you asshole." He found this amusing and I'm sure he didn't really think I was serious, even though I said it through clenched teeth. So he, in about 3/4 of a second, flipped me onto my stomach, pinned me down and started TICKLING the hell out of me! Tickling! Me! He tickled me ruthlessly! Well, the muffled cries and screams that were coming from our bedroom sent the kids in of course. More witnesses of me being tortured. I was calling him names, I was not laughing, I. WAS. PISSED. He was cackling like a fucking maniac. Kady flipped OUT and not unlike a 2 1/2 foot tall Ninja warrior, jumped onto the bed and started pummelling her father screaming "YOU WET GO OF MY MOMMA YOU POOPOO PSYCHO BUTTHOG!! YOU ARE A DOODER HEAD AND YOU ARE MEAN AND YOU QUIT TICKWING MY MOMMA!" Yeah, that's my baby. She was doing her best to save her helpless mother. The sound of my youngest offspring's voice gave me power and I managed to flip that sadistic husband of mine off of me. Before I could fully get away though, he had me pinned again and the tickling began anew. He told Abby and Sam to tickle me, too. They refused. They stood there next to the bed, wide-eyed, bewildered and not sure if they should run and hide, call 911 or attack their father. I was saying, between screams, squeals and pants, that THEY loved me and THEY were loyal and THEY weren't torturing me brutally and THEY knew who the BEST parent was.

This is where it gets ugly: Paul said, "If you jump up here and tickle Momma you can have your Gameboys back."

(They got the Gameboys taken away 4 weeks ago when they lied, conspired with each other to perpetuate the lie and neither would give the other one up. Gotta give 'em credit for the sibling loyalty, but it really pissed us off. Paul said they would not get them back EVER until they 'fessed up.)

Those kids jumped on that bed and commenced to tickling faster than you can say Mario versus Donkey Kong. The little shits. Kady never did join in. She sat at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, pouting and yelling at them all, telling them they were dooder heads. I love that kid so much. The other two...well, I still love 'em, but they are outta the will. Out I tell ya.

The Diva has spoken at 5:14 PM CST
Sunday, March 6, 2005
Banners and Blogs
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Things in life that suck
Oh BY THE WAY, if you've been diligently searching for my banner on Blog Explosion...well I thank you for looking, friend, but you won't see it. They denied my banner AND my blog because of pop-ups. This is what I get for being cheap and not paying for a blog.

My friend, Crazy Mom, says Typepad is wonderful and worth the money. I did a quick price comparison between Tripod and Typepad and so far Typepad is winning. If I'm going to have to pay, I want it to be worthwhile.

Any other opinions? Anyone? Anyone?


Bueller?


Bueller?

The Diva has spoken at 11:20 PM CST
Everybody's working for the weekend
Mood:  vegas lucky
Topic: Rambling much
Grrr...had a bunch typed on here and dadgummit it all if I didn't click a link accidentally and the page changed and I lost it. I hate when that happens.
***********************************

Before I forget, here's me!
Well, minus the big ass.
***********************************

We sold the truck! Well, as of in the morning it will be sold. We go to the bank and pay it off and release the (hounds) lein in the morning. I was so proud of Mr. Diva on Saturday. I wanted to go with him when he sold it because I knew the guy that wanted it was a dealer and Paul's not the best at bargaining. I really wanted to take this old guy on, but Kady was sick and I had to send the man out on good faith that he would be strong. I gave him a pep talk that would rival a high school football coach revving up his team right before the big game. I few tips, pointers and a slap on the ass and he was outta here. The guy tried to get him to come down on the price, but he stood his ground. Yay Mr. Diva!!!!

Anyone need a good boat?
***********************************

We had plans to go to The Oklahoma D-Day Facility on Saturday, but what with the truck selling it kind of got postponed till Sunday. I had already decided after getting up with Kady at 5am to watch her cough till she puked that she and I would not be going. I figured all that dust and uckiness would be hell on her already blechy bronchioli, but Mr. Diva was going to take Mini-Diva and Diva Boy and spend the day. The truck business took longer than we anticpated. "But there's still Sunday" was our battle cry.

Saturday night we had Family Game Night in at Mom's. Since we're all working really hard to attain financial peace, we've given up a lot of the former entertaining. Well, the Diva family has - my sister and her husband seem to be making a freaking living with the gambling these days, the lucky dooder-heads.

I was drying my hair when Abby came in, almost in tears, telling me her ear really hurt. Well, with all the snot and whathaveya that's been lurking in her sinuses it's no wonder there'd be pressure in her ears. At her last dr. visit Dr. David informed us that the tube in her left ear was no longer in the ear drum, but was just lying in the canal and would eventually work it's way out. Not a big surprise, it's been almost a year since she had the tubes put in, it's about time to see them come out. I gave her an Advil and told her it'd quit soon. It didn't. 20 minutes later, when she should've gotten at least a little relief, it was hurting worse. I just got the phone and had them page whoever was on call for Dr. David. The PA that called me back was amazing and said that more than likely the viral sinus infection had allowed a bacterial ear infection to set in and since the tube wasn't in the drum anymore, well, that's bad. Pain for Mini-Diva. She called her in Zithromax (KD and Sam had just finished theirs that morning) and some ear drops. Let me just say that it's hard as heck to get a bottle of those drops, but they are GOLD man, pure gold. Our last PA wouldn't give them to me. So to get a Rx for them from a PA we'd never seen before seemed like a huge score. They worked like a charm. We see the ENT in a month and I'm praying that we don't have to have the tubes re-seated. That's gonna be a real pisser.

Anyway, Mom said that once a month now she's hosting Family Game Night. She'll cook and we'll play games and just get back to basics. Well, Mom, God love 'er, was just faunching at the bit to play a new Dominoes game. OH GREAT GOOGLYMOOGLY I WOULD RATHER STAB MYSELF REPEATEDLY IN THE EYES WITH UNSHARPENED PENCILS than ever play Mexican Dominoes again. Four hours of any game, even Cranium, is too much. Yes, four hours of Dominoes. Now, don't get me wrong, the company was great, I had a blast with my family, but oh the pain of Dominoes. Am I even spelling Dominoes right? Is it Dominos? Awhell, who cares - it's a boring damn game no matter how you spell it. Uncle David attended our first FGN and bless his pure soul, I think he prays for us a lot now more than he ever did. I'm sure he wonders just where it all went wrong. God love 'im.

Finally at 11:30 we finished our last game. The kids were all asleep on Mom's couch bed. She said to just let them spend the night. You know what that means:

LOUD THE KIDS ARE OUT OF THE HOUSE SEX!!!

The four hours of Dominoes was a small price to pay. Yep, TMI. Who cares. We had loud sex. Trust me, since the moving of the bedrooms with our bedroom now being in close proximity to the kids' and the fact that our eldest daughter has actually heard things, loud sex does not occur in our house anymore. It was a nice treat. Heehee.
***********************************

I slept a solid 7 hours last night. I ate cake for breakfast and didn't have to hide in the utility room for fear the kids would see me and whine that it's not fair that they don't get cake for breakfast. I felt very grown-up. Mom fixed lunch for us. She's on a roll, that Mom. We brought the kids home and Paul immediately retired to the recliner. He had a bad headache and crashed for nearly 3 hours. So much for the 4x4 thing at The Hill. I read while the kids watched Peter Pan. It was very relaxing and quiet. We tried to play outside after that, but by then some clouds had come in and it was downright chilly. It got up to 74 today. It was heaven. And sunny!!

The kids and I watched "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days". Abby really liked it. She likes mushy gushy love stories. She's a cool kid, that Abby. Sam just groaned and covered his face when they kissed. He's a cool kid, too. Kady just sat and picked slap fights with her big brother. She's cool, but not when she does that. After the kids went to bed I watched "Monster". Yikes. What a disturbing movie. I kinda wish I hadn't watched it. She was one twisted chick.

Now I'm just killing time, trying to stay awake till 11:45. Just over 30 minutes to go. The Lucky Turtle Casino in Wyandotte is giving away $10 from 12-5am if you wear your pj's in. I can so wear my pj's and I'm all about the free money, but man, I'm TIRED. Sis and I are going at midnight, then we're coming home and the husbands are going to get theirs then. This saving money thing is great, but I'm finding that we're doing strange-ass things to find free entertainment.

The Diva has spoken at 11:10 PM CST
Updated: Sunday, March 6, 2005 11:14 PM CST
Friday, March 4, 2005
It was Friday all day (Part deux)
Mood:  spacey
Topic: All in the family
I shouldn't have used that title for the previous post. That post was going to be this post, then I changed my mind last minute. And I'm not creative enough right now to think of another title. Thus, Part Deux. I doubt there is a Part Trois tonight, though. I'm getting tired.

Kady and I just hung out today and it was awesome. I stayed in my pj's till 3:00 this afternoon. Yep, shameless. Sue me - I had a headache. She actually wanted to get dressed. Usually it's a knockdown dragout to dress the child, but on the one day we're staying home, not going anywhere, she's all fired up to put on clothes. She has a mind of her own, that's for sure.

I wrote a story for Fizzle n Pop this morning (I hope that link takes you right to it. If not, I'll post my story on here in it's entirety.) and Kady sat in the floor for nearly 2 hours putting together puzzles. I keep them put up in the closet after last summer a little girl I was babysitting dumped the whole box out in Kady's bedroom floor. Imagine 300+ puzzle pieces scattered EVerywhere. It was a compulsive woman's nightmare, trust me. So now they stay put up. This is good for two reasons: 1) They don't get dumped again because I do not let the puzzles out of my sight. 2) It makes the kids really WANT to play with them. That box of puzzles entertained her all day long and I've now decided my youngest child is a puzzle savant. No kidding. She's freaky with the puzzles. She was putting together 30 piece puzzles in like 2 minutes. Yikes. She frightens me sometimes.

We watched All My Children together and ate tortilla chips and salsa. Then I rocked her to sleep. I love that. She's my last one more than likely and I will rock her until she's 12 if I so desire. Okay, I'm pretty sure she's not going to let that happen, she'll start resisting it one of these days, but until then I'm rocking her. I think Abby would still let me rock her to sleep, but the child is nearly as tall as I am, so that's out. Sam never was big into the rocking when he was a baby. It nearly killed me to just lay him in his crib and let him go to sleep on his own. I even weaned Abby off of the rocking before he was born, in anticipation of needing to rock the new baby. When I realized that he wasn't keen to the rocking, Abby decided to punish me by not allowing it with her anymore. Nearly killed me. Kady is a rocker, God love 'er. She'll be 3 1/2 in June and I don't see an end to it yet. Halleluiah. Wow, digression much.

I finally showered and got dressed before the kids got off the bus this afternoon. Mr. Diva got home shortly after they did and boy was he in a bad mood. He swears that lack of sex does not affect his personality, but he lies. He gets really cranky without it. I akin it to my love of chocolate, his love of sex. If I go a few days without chocolate, the world knows about it because I turn into a bitch on wheels. He goes a few days without sex and yikes, we're all ready to move to Cleveland. Men.

I took Sam to karate tonight. He's so damn cute with that karate stuff. And is it wrong that I think I may very well have a crush on his Sensei? My GOD that man is hot. Tall, muscle-y, long hair in a ponytail, moustache and goatee, ooh ooh the best part, tattoo on the inside of his right forearm. I'm telling you, he's hot. Too bad I'm just about 100% sure that he finds my rather chunky physique repulsive. So much for that. Fantasy sometimes beats reality. He might be, like, so limber and rambunctious during sex that I'd find it hard to keep up. I doubt that because I'm pretty limber for a fat chick, I gotta say. ANYway...just for the record, I have no real intention of having an affair with my son's karate teacher. Just for the record.

Mr. Diva and I had coneys from the Sonic for dinner. Wow, I didn't realize just how much I have missed fast food. Not missed it, like a really important part of my life is gone or anything, but like, wow, fast food is sure convenient and I didn't have to cook it. Mr. Diva was still cranky so I flipped a tater tot at him. He wasn't amused. Some people are so hard to get along with.

We have SHOWTIME AND THE MOVIE CHANNEL ALL WEEKEEND LONG!!! You might be a redneck if...you clear your social calendar and stock up on blank VHS tapes in anticipation of free previews on the expensive premium channels. I caught Mr. Diva watching something called "Die Mommy, Die!" awhile ago. I said, "Good grief, why on earth are you watching this? We still have the Outdoor Channel ya know." He said, "I know, but this is free preview weekend, Kristin. Duh. We must watch all of the free movies we can. Even if they suck like this one does." I said that was a pretty strange reason to watch something that starred a woman who I'm pretty sure was really a man, but dressed as a woman, but in a creepy way, like drag queen style. But to each his own.

Tomorrow we're going to Muddy Gras at the D-Day place in Wyandotte. I'm not actually sure what they call it anymore. Is it The Bunker still? Courtney, who I might add is the Voice of D-Day, always just calls is The Hill. Whatever ya call it, we're goin' there tomorrow to watch 'em 4x4 all over the place. Should be fun. The kids are anxious as all get out.

Which brings me to my final thought (Ooh, I sounded a bit like Jerry Springer there for a minute)

APRIL MARKS THE BEGINNING OF DEMOLITION DERBY SEASON

I'm so glad we'll be out of debt soon. I am SO driving again this year. And more than once, dammit. But in order to drive, ya gotta have money. Mr. Diva's drivin' this year, too. You know what they say:

The family that smashes the hell out of junk cars together, is a redneck family indeed.

The Diva has spoken at 11:32 PM CST
It was Friday all day
Mood:  on fire
Topic: Go Super Mom, Go!
I just made myself a couple of banners that should, if the Powers That Be allow it, run on Blog Explosion. That means BLOG TRAFFIC. I'd love to share them with you, but I can't seem to get them to show up on here. Go figure. I have just enough knowledge to make me dangerous. Tonight, though, that knowledge isn't worth crap.

If y'all are here via Blog Explosion, or better yet, because of my banner ad that you saw on Blog Explosion, will you let me know in a comment?


The Diva has spoken at 10:38 PM CST
Updated: Friday, March 4, 2005 10:51 PM CST
Thursday, March 3, 2005
Life happened
Mood:  lucky
Topic: All in the family
When I tucked Kady in last night, I leaned down to kiss her and felt my lips sizzling upon touching her little forehead. That is never a good thing. I took her temp and it read 101.8. But at the time I didn't treat it. She hadn't complained that she was achey or cold, she wasn't chilling and I figured it was there for a reason. I tucked her in and left the bathroom light glowing into the hall so if she needed me, she had a clear path. By this time, Mr. Diva was sound asleep in his recliner, so I did what any woman would do - I took over the whole entire bed. I felt like the freaking Queen of Sheba, all propped up on my three pillows.

By 1:30 Kady was awake and crying. Oh yeah, and she was barking like a baby harp seal. Oh the rattling, wheezing and God-awful noises coming from that child. I gave her some cough medicine, some Tylenol and put her in bed with me. There we slept the rest of the night, both of us propped up, in all of our royal glory. We got up at 6:30 and she seemed much better. For about 5 minutes. Then she started coughing and couldn't quit. I filled the nebulizer up, sat her in her daddy's chair and proceded to wake up the other two kids. They got on the bus at 7:20. I checked on Kady and discovered that again, she was burning up with fever. I called the doctor's office at 7:25, a full five minutes before they actually opened, but prayed someone would answer. They did. Mind you, it's 7:25, I have spent the last hour getting two kids off to school and making sure the other one can breathe. I am still in my pj's. And the nurse says they have one appointment. One. If I don't take it, it'll be Monday before he can see her. That appointment was for 8. I said, "I'll be there," hung up the phone and took off down the hall, stripping off pajamas and frantically searching for some sweats. I washed my face, pulled my hair back in a ponytail, slapped a little foundation and mascara on, grabbed some sweats for KD, pulled her hair back in a ponytail, filled a sippy cup for her (And let me tell you what - she thought she was in hog heaven, drinking out of a sippy cup. She hasn't used one since she was 1. The only time she gets one is when she's sick. She took full advantage of that thing today - she's probably overhydrated now, lol.) and flew out the door at 7:45. 15 minutes and I even looked human and only slightly like white trash.

One listen to her raspy lungs and Dr. David announced that a certain three year old would be leaving his office with a prescription. She has asthmatic broncitis. Which means her asthma is acting up and she developed bronchitis in the midst of it all. Great. So while he had his little magic medicine pad out, I told him how Sam sounded. That he's coughed for 4 weeks, but now when he coughs, there's an added note at the end. He wrote him a Rx for the same high-powered, extremely expensive antibiotic, too. He also said that KD's immune system is seriously depleted and to keep her away from people as much as possible and for the love of God, keep her out of Wal-Mart. Nothin' doin', Dr. David. I can SO do that. I hate that place now that they've deemed me unemployable. But I digress.

I called Jill to tell her that KD was sick and that it was up to her as to whether she brought Chandler over the rest of the week. She opted to keep him away from the plague house. Can't say I blame her.

I dropped off the Rx's at the pharmacy and rummaged through my purse for my Entertainment envelope. I had $5 left for indulgence and by golly, when you have asthmatic bronchitis I think you need a donut. So a donut KD had. She thought she was all that. Then the nice pharmacist gave her not one, but TWO color books. She practically glowed back there in her carseat. A sippy cup, a donut and TWO color books. How much better can it get? Oh yeah, to not have asthmatic bronchitis would definitely be better.

We came home and she went immediately to the couch. Then she colored awhile. Then she played with her InteracTV awhile. Back to coloring. Back to the couch. Leggos awhile. Laid in the kitchen floor awhile while I made cornbread. All the while she shook because the kid was pumped so full of albuterol it wasn't funny. She really never has complained about it making her shake, but it's unnerving to watch her do it. Finally she slept. For a whole 45 minutes. Bless her heart.

While she slept I put together the few things I needed to do before Brownies. Thankfully Heather had agreed to do the meeting today. We planted things, which I am just simply awful at. I missed that gene somewhere along the way. I vacuumed while holding KD. I made a cake while holding her. I swept the kitchen floor while holding her. I did make her sit on the couch while I dusted because I figured breathing in the stirred up dust was probably a bad thing. I finally sat down with her and just held her. She liked that. And to be honest, so did I.

Mom, God love her, picked up my one town Brownie, brought her out here then basically just kept KD entertained and away from the general population while we Brownie'd our little hearts out. The girls planted onions, peppers, watermelon, lettuce, tomatoes and some other vegetable that none of them will eat. But they enjoyed it. I also managed to unload the rest of the cookies on Magnet Lady. God love you, Magnet Lady.

After the Brownies left, the family stayed and we ate brown beans and cornbread and for dessert, chocolate cake. Sis and the kids left first, Mom stayed awhile, playing a game on my computer.

When she finally got up to go she said, "Man, I'm cold." I replied with, "Man, I got the farts." Mom laughed and said, "Oh yeah? Like this?" and just pooted ever so quietly. I said, "No, more like this," and I SWEAR to you, I really intended to just poot a little. But what emerged was a bun-rattling cacophony that reduced my mother to a bent-over position, crying and holding her stomach from laughing so hard. Then I got tickled and lost my breath and then Mom felt compelled to run in and tattle to my husband that I had just peeled the paint off the toyroom walls.

Agh, I just heard noise in the kitchen and see that Mr. Diva is eating another bowl of beans. Man, for once I am glad I'm pulling sick kid duty tonight and he is sleeping on the couch.

The Diva has spoken at 10:47 PM CST
Wednesday, March 2, 2005
This being sick is for the birds
Mood:  spacey
Topic: Go Super Mom, Go!
I did 8 loads of laundry today. We now have clothes to wear. Clean ones at that. The children weren't quite sure what to think when they went to the laundry basket to find their socks and underwear and they weren't there. I had to show them again where their dressers are. Husband can now also quit wearing my socks. I just wish there'd be a reason for him to take his shoes off at work one of these days and then he'd have to show everyone the pink "Hanes" written across the toes of MY socks on HIS feet.

I cleaned my office. This was no small feat. I vacuumed it as well. The bag was bursting after I swept my very small 6x8 office. The stupid thing was full of the little slips of paper they put in Hershey's Kisses. heehee. And I actually have to wonder why my jeans are so snug and why the stretch jeans that I swore I'd never wear are now my best friends. I can't help it. It's just too easy to sit here and pop those things into my mouth while I blog. Too damn easy.

I discovered that there actually IS a writing surface to my desk today. Then, because I was so proud of the fact that I discovered that beautiful surface, I sat there and wrote my name on probably 46 Post-It Notes. Talk about a waste. Talk about juvenile. It was like junior high all over again. I wrote it in print. In all caps. In flowing, fancy script. In bubble letters. With hearts over the i's. Backwards. Upside down. With my maiden name. Then I wrote all my kids' names. In print. All caps. Flowing fancy script, etc etc. I can waste more time...and ink. And Post-It Notes. But the writing surface worked well. I was much impressed. Who knew desks were good for writing?

Tomorrow I begin tackling my paperwork for my taxes. I am so excited I could just tinkle. And I am so being sarcastic it's probably pretty evident. 2004 is THE LAST year we file long form on any kind of small business. Halleuiah. It will be so nice to file online next year. Without the aid of an accountant. I'll miss him, he's a great guy, but his services will not be needed in 2005. I hope.

We got 3 calls on the pickup last night in a span of about 30 minutes. Nothing all day today. Then when Mr. Diva got home, his brother called. The kid who lives across the highway from where the truck is sitting has been over to visit it multiple times. Paul's brother said that by Saturday it should be sold, the kid's wanting it bad and is getting the money. YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Kady is wheezing and coughing like crazy, bless her heart. She kept me awake all night last night. Okay, I should rephrase that. She didn't keep me awake that much because I couldn't sleep anyway. The only way I can breathe and not cough is to sleep sitting straight upright. Not possible in the bed, so I prop myself up best I can. It works pretty good. Except for the fact that it kills my neck and back. And Mr. Diva and I are habitual spooners in bed - even when we are fighting, we spoon - so when he'd try to spoon he'd end up with his face right about my belly button level, which obviously didn't feel quite right, so then he'd squirm around till he got up onto my mountain of pillows and made it all tip over and if I happened to be in a rare moment of sleeping I'd wake up feeling like I was falling. It was a long damn night. Poor Kady was up and down, I was up and down...we should've just gotten up and played Nintendo or something. Or at least we could've watched Insomniac Music Theatre together. She likes VH1. She's a good kid, that Kady.

And Paul took the last of the Nyquil this morning before he left for work. I nearly had a panic attack when he told me he took Nyquil during the day. In a state of panic and nearly hyperventilating, I screamed, "GOOD LORD MAN WHAT. WERE. YOU. THINKING?? FOR ONE THING, YOU SAVE THE HAPPY MEDICINE FOR NIGHT TIME. AND FOR ANOTHER, YOU SAVE THE LAST NYQUIL FOR YOUR WIFE WHO IS ALWAYS SICKER THAN YOU ARE. YOU HAVE NOW RUINED MY DAY AND I'M NOT SURE I CAN CONTINUE LIVING NOW. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT." Normally he'd have been all defensive and hateful and all like "Who gives a shit" but noooo, he was already feelin' happy from the Nyquil. He was off in his happy place and he could breathe and he probably couldn't feel his fingers either. Sure hope none of you had your cars worked on at the Miami Wal-Mart today. If you did, you might wanna check those lug nuts.

The Diva has spoken at 10:12 PM CST
Tuesday, March 1, 2005
You gave yourself a what?
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Rambling much
Well, tonight I finally did it. I gave myself a PLASTECTOMY. Yep, I cut up my credit cards. The end of an era has arrived. Never again will I have one. My hands literally shook while I did it (in front of a class of about 20 people) and there was a strange sense of panic about me as the ginormous scissors approached the small piece of defenseless plastic.

I cut up the Discover card first. It was the one I've had the longest, the one I swore I was going to keep forever because Sam's Club takes Discover and nothing else and what if I want to buy 40 gallons of mustard or something and have no cash? No kidding, this was my thinking. But since that beyotch from Discover made me cry last week, I suddenly have developed this ease in making the separation. Go figure. Okay, so back to the cutting up of the cards...I snipped that Discover card right in two. There lying on the table, right on top of my sister's 14 cut-up credit cards, were the two halves of my oh so precious Discover card. Good-bye 40 gallons of mustard on credit. Even if I would've earned 1% cash back.

Then I cut up the Mastercard. I had no problem cutting that one up. Even though there is a hefty balance on it, that account hasn't been open for 2 years. The really nice folks at Sears closed that account for me. How considerate of them. I didn't even ask.

The last one to go was the Lane Bryant card. No more buying bras and cheeky panties on credit. From now on, if I need underclothes I pay cash. Thank God I bought up a bunch of 'em last time I was in there. I have enough cheeky panties to get me through till Jesus comes back. And then, I'll get my new heavenly body and my ass will be a lot smaller so I can shop at Victoria's Secret then.

**********************************

In lieu of my normal sarcastic Post-Ladies' Night check the box post, I'll just tell ya right here: I didn't win shit at the casino last night.

**********************************

Today I attended the third funeral I've been to in 6 weeks. How crummy is that? This one was for the father of a dear friend of mine from grade school. They moved to Tulsa when we were in 6th grade, but we've stayed in touch off and on since then. She came back to town when we had a (rather small) 5 year class reunion and even attended our 10 year reunion. She was shocked that I was there today, but truthfully, I couldn't imagine not being there.

Mom and I went to the funeral together and my gosh, how I love that woman. She is honestly my best friend. (Okay, so she ties with Heather, but I'm still lucky to have two best friends.) She asked me before we got out of the car to go into the chapel if I needed tissues. I said I didn't, because honestly it'd been probably 20 years or more since I'd seen Butch and I was there for Jamie, plain and simple. I didn't foresee tears. Oh but the tears came regardless. By funeral's end my mother and I sat there with tears streaming down our faces and nothing to dab them with.

In the parking lot, after the service, while we were waiting for the family to come out, I was telling Mom that I really wasn't enjoying the number of funerals I was attending these days. In six week's time 5 people I know have passed away. Mom said that Papa has always said that when the sap rises and falls, you'll attend more funerals. I asked her what that meant. She said that the old folks say that in the spring when the sap is rising, more people die. In the fall, when the sap starts to fall, again the same thing. Who knows why, it just happens. Papa even said this to a funeral director in town who wholeheartedly agreed with him. He said there is a period of time in the spring and fall both where they are inundated with business. How strange eh? Have any of y'all ever heard of such a thing? I'm kind of believing it, seeing as how things are going.

I called my best friend from grade school, DeLisa, last night to tell her about Jamie's dad. DeLisa and Jamie and I were all in Brownies together and I knew she'd want to know. Unfortunately she couldn't get a sub for her class that last minute and couldn't attend the funeral, but asked that I tell Jamie she wanted to be there. She made a comment that really struck me and pretty much said exactly how I was feeling. Something to the affect of how if this what being a "grown-up" is like --attending more funerals than weddings, facing your parents' mortality and possibly coming to grips with our own mortality, watching people you love grow old -- this is a part that pretty much sucks. Okay, so I'm the one that said "sucks" because DeLisa is much too pure to say that, God love 'er.

It's very difficult to sit in a funeral home and say good-bye to someone your parents' age and not be affected by it. I'm having a hard time dealing with it, to be honest. And I told Mom that very thing.

I love my Mom so much - while I sat there crying in the passenger's seat of her car, she said "Well, I'll just tell you girls something right now. When I die, don't you dare go out and buy me something new to wear in the casket. Go to my closet and pick out something old from in there. Maybe even something that was a little too tight while I was alive. 'Cuz you know they just slit it up the back anyway. Then I'd actually be able to fit back into it again. Oh! And make sure they tape my boobs up nice and perky and show a lot of cleavage. Because when all the men walk by to view my body, I want them to see what they missed out on." It's hard to cry when your mother is saying something like that. I was snorting and snotting all over the place by then.

******************************

Last night at Ladies' Night, I commented to Mom and Angie that I sure hoped I won the $500 soon. I am wanting to take another "selfish vacation" to Branson in April to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Angie, who is a whole lot of redneck, said, "What the hay-ell (translate: hell) is a techni-whatever you said?" I laughed and explained that the show is a Broadway-style musical about the story of Joseph and his coat of many colors from the book of Genesis. She was unimpressed. I said, "Well, in the Broadway run, Donnie Osmond played Joseph," with all the hoity-toityness I could muster. She remained unimpressed and even sniffed in disapproval. I said, "Dammit, Angie! My husband won't take me and I just WANT to go!" She said, "And the tickets are $500??" I said, "Good grief no. $500 would just allow for me to spend a few nights there, see the show and do some shopping." She said, "Sister, you give me a hundred bucks, I'll buy you a six-pack of beer and show you a better time than Donnie Osmond ever could." I said, "It's a musical, Angie." She said, "Gimme a hundred more and I'll even sing for ya." Man, I hope I win the $500 soon. Rest assured that I will not be giving Angie $200 to get me drunk and sing to me, though.

The Diva has spoken at 10:06 PM CST
Monday, February 28, 2005
It's a freakin' box already
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Kids & other noisy things
I just logged off the computer and walked into my living room to find my husband sitting in the recliner watching my three kids and Chandler play with a box. A huge box that my Tupperware order came in. They have every throw pillow off of the couch and big chair and an enormous box and they are insanely deliriously happy. I looked at Paul and said, "That's it. At Christmas time we are not buying toys. Only boxes." The kids all stopped in mid-jump/wrestle/roll and looked at me, completely silent. Then it was like someone hit the "play" button again and they all yelled "YAY!!! BOXES! WE GET BOXES FOR CHRISTMAS!!!!!" Then Chandler grabbed a pillow, tackled it with all of his teeny tiny 36 pounds, then looked up and said, "Kiki, can I have a pillow, too?"

The Diva has spoken at 5:23 PM CST
Monday again. Ho Hum. Running out of cute Monday titles. Obviously.
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Rambling much
I got up at 4am. That is just wrong, people. I'm pretty sure that the world outside my house was actually stopped at that unGodly hour. I don't think any motion occured until 5:30. I'm pretty sure anyway.

I left my house at 5:45am. I picked up my sister, niece and nephew at 5:55am. We left for Tulsa at 6:15am. We arrived in Tulsa at 7:15am and absolutely had to pull over at a truck stop/travel plaza/get anything you'd ever want to eat in one city block kinda place to pee. Addison and I were desperate. Upon leaving the McDonald's we ran across the parking lot and my daughter, being the graceful Olive Oyl look-alike she is, tripped over a curb and went sprawling onto the grass below. We laughed. A lot. She laid there in the dried grass, coat askew, gangly coltish legs in a rather creepy weird position, giggling her head off. At least the poor thing can laugh at herself. I always could, too. Like when I fell up the stairs going out of the old bandroom in junior high. More than once. I always have been able to laugh at my pathetic, clumsy-ass self. It's a gift.

We arrived at the dentist's office at 7:30 and only had to wait 15 minutes before they opened the door. We knew there was no way they'd actually see us that early, but at least we could let the obnoxious children out of the confines of the van. It was 7:45, the children had been up since 5:30 and they were so hyper I was fearing their heads were going to spontaneously combust at any second.

On the upside, the dentist was able to actually wiggle one of my daughter's molars. I gasped when he showed me proudly how that sucker just moved under the command of his shiny, pointy dental instrument. I said, "Oh no! She's not supposed to lose THAT one!" He laughed and said that the fact that the tooth is mobile is a good thing and patted me on the arm while I tried to quit hyperventilating. He said that means her headgear is being worn enough that it's actually moving her teeth. 'Bout damn time. By the time school starts in the fall she should be to where she'll only have to wear it at night. For the rest of her life. Oh well. By damn, she'll have pretty teeth.

My niece threw the most dramatic fit I've ever seen today before and while they cleaned her teeth. She is quite the drama queen. God lover 'er. She just likes to be dramatic, plain and simple. It unnerves my sister, because frankly it is kind of embarrassing. But seeing as how she isn't my child, I can turn my head and snicker shamelessly. I swear that child's going to end up on Broadway. Or at least Jerry Springer.

The boat is now safely anchored at my father's house. Right smack dab on the highway. The highway that leads right to the river. Halleluiah. The truck is now safely listed at sharpcar.com as well. Didn't even know such a place existed. Apparently at Ken's Farm and Home, they only had one particular kind of For Sale sign. It had a link at the bottom for sharpcar.com. Upon perusal of the sign and then the website, you get a free listing with the purchase of the .98 sign. Wow wow woweeee. It's listed. It may not get us a thing, but it's listed. It's also going to take a small trip to Wyandotte tonight to a guy's house who has an uncanny knack for selling vehicles. He sold Paul's nephew's truck in 3 hours. If only we could be that lucky.

My husband and his eating schedule on his days off are going to be the death of me. He eats at the complete opposite times the rest of the house does. The kids and I eat lunch every day at 11:30. Every day. He will undoubtedly, every day he's off, fix a huge breakfast at like 10:30. Then be hungry again at 4:00 and fix a sandwich. So then when I'm ready to make dinner at 5:30, he's not hungry. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. But if I don't make dinner, then by 7:00 he's pissed because there's nothing to eat. This has to end. I will be forced to murder him if it doesn't stop.

But I must say...he's wearing a turtleneck today. And he has always looked damn fine in a turtleneck for some reason. Until I met him and married him, he never wore anything but western shirts (Brush Poppers were at the height of fashion when we met)or t-shirts. So using my feminine wiles I convinced him to branch out to henleys, turtlenecks and Polo-type shirts. But the one that wins, hands down, is the turtleneck. Although...in the summer a tank top is pretty fine as well. He has a really sexy tribal type tattoo on his right bicep/tricep. Hubba hubba y'all. I love his arms, gotta say. Whew! I need a cold drink. And a cigarette.

Well, I'm off to make dinner! Even though he's not hungry. Grrrrr. It's Ladies' Night, though! So at 8:30 I'll be heading off to town to not win any money! Life is good.

The Diva has spoken at 5:14 PM CST
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Just some good ol' boys
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Rambling much
In my brief moments of lucidity today I have managed to watch quite a bit of the Dukes of Hazard marathon on CMT. That was one good show. When I was watching them Duke boys as a child, obviously jealous of Daisy's ability to show her stomach AND wear pantyhose with shorts, drooling over Luke (No, I wasn't in love with Bo. I think I was like the only girl not in love with Bo.) and thinking how utterly cool it would be to have a car like The General Lee, I had no idea that when I grew up I would be redneck just like them. No idea at all.

My kids have had no desire to watch ANY of The Dukes of Hazard. What is WRONG with these children?

The Diva has spoken at 8:09 PM CST
Good heavens
Mood:  d'oh
Topic: Rambling much
Has is really been since Thursday since I posted? I am so sorry! I realize that most of the world can go about their business without reading my daily musings and ramblings, but it seems that there are at least three of you who need me! Little C (aka Cousin Courtney), Magnet Lady, and Jersey Girl need me! When I don't post, they miss me. Magnet Lady told me that very thing last night while I was sitting at her computer helping her learn the ropes of the almighty blog. Then Courtney comments today that she's worried because I haven't posted in so long. Jersey Girl has just stated before that she reads me daily, so I'm going on faith that she still does, lol. I honestly did not realize it'd been since Thursday. Amazing how times flies when you sleep through it.

See, I haven't had the energy to do anything but sleep lately. It's been bad. I'm starting to worry myself.

Friday I took Ab to the doctor (Btw, it's a viral sinus infection, therefore there's nothing to be done but treat the symptoms. Dammit.) Then ran a few minor errands, had a lunch with Heather (I will SO post about that fiasco possibly later, if I'm still awake.) and then came home. I put the kids down for a nap and crashed myself. An hour and a half of restful bliss I had. Then we picked Sam up off the bus at 3:45, went back to town, dropped Chandler off at the bank, got that poor Sam a haircut, (The barber said that was the most hair he'd ever seen on that kid and he's been cutting his hair since Sam turned 1), then delivered Papa's GS Cookies, visited with Mom (she gave the kids a snack, too, God love her) then went to karate. Poor Ab opted to stay with me rather than go with her daddy, as originally planned, but about 30 minutes after her Daddy headed home she said she was regretting that, her ear was hurting. Not much I could do at that point, poor kid. We skipped Wal-Mart, which meant that we now had NO SOAP in the house for Paul's shower. I managed to find a motel bar in my travel bag. He looked at it and said, "Well, this'll work for one arm." Jerk. He works at Wal-Mart, he knows precisely where the soap aisle is. Anyway, we came home, put the kids to bed and then Paul and I watched a movie. I'm surprised I stayed awake through it, but it was pretty riveting and it was about weather, with is a serious love/fetish/obsession of mine. The Day After Tomorrow is what we watched. It was creepy. Not scary, just disturbing in a "holy crap that could really happen" kinda way. Then it was 7 hours of Nyquil induced slumber. I think I'm becoming an addict.

Saturday I slept till the late hour of 7:30, got around, then the kids and I went to Wal-Mart. Good Lord in Heaven, they must've sent every mumbling octagenarian a plethora of dollar-off coupons and then sent the Pelivan out to get 'em all, because the store was positively brimming with OLD PEOPLE. God love 'em. I know I'll be old someday and I dearly love my own old people, but when you are fighting a sinus infection, dragging three snotty, sneezing children, all three of which have money they are simply dying to spend, you don't feel like waiting on Grampa Harold to decide which fiber-rich cereal he needs for his irritable bowel. God love 'em.

We got back home around 1, I made the kids get blankets and pillows, threatened them to lie down and not move, popped in a movie and slept while the children laid in the floor in front of me, afraid to breathe and move enough to incur my wrath. I felt better when I got up, made some dip because we had plans to go to Magnet Lady and Mr. Magnet's house for dinner. A real live grownup type dinner! Okay, so the kids were gonna be there, but still it was other grownups! Paul was even excited and he doesn't get excited about much. The Magnets are our camping buddies and we love those magnetic folks dearly. Dinner was a smash. Mr. Magnet grilled up some "moist" (There I said it, ML! LOL) burgers, we had chips, dips, yummy beans and even though Magnet Lady said her coleslaw tasted like dog poop (that's a direct quote, btw) I liked it. She shared some magnificent hand scrubby, sea salty stuff with me and my hands were so soft I wasn't sure they were mine for awhile. Of course, that feeling of surreality might've been the Nyquil... Anyway, we started watching Saw, which was super creepy, then Paul leaned over real quiet and said, "Are you ready to go?" I said, "Uhh, not really...I thought we were going to watch this movie." And I was almost pissed off because I never get to spend time with grownups anymore and dammit, I was having FUN, but when I looked over at him, I knew there was a reason he was wanting to leave an hour before we needed to. So we got the kids around and loaded up. We started out of the Magnets' driveway and he said, "I wanted to stay, hon, but my throat is hurting so bad I can hardly stand it." Poor guy! So I stopped being pissed about the early end to the evening. He went straight to bed after that. I went, too. After I had my Nyquil, of course. :)

Today, I got up at 7:30 again, threw a box of donuts at the children, poured three cups of milk, popped a donut hole in my mouth and went to the couch. I covered up in two heavy blankets and still laid there shivering my head off. I turned on the TV and prayed the children would be lured in by the happy, brightly colored cartoonish people on screen. They were. I slept. It was good. Then I came to for a few moments, long enough to pee, make some tea, then went back to the couch. I slept till 11, was still freezing, so I got up and took a super hot shower. I felt better after the shower, but still not too whoop. I made lunch, loaded the dishwasher, started a load of laundry and by that time the kids were done eating. Again, I told them to get their blankets and pillows. We watched The Emporer's New Groove, which is one of my very favorite Disney movies. I couldn't stay awake! I slept through all but the last 20 minutes of it. Then they put in another movie and I slept through it, too. I know - I am a horrible mother. My childrens' IQ's probably dropped 50 points today, poor kids. When the movie marathon was over, I dragged my sorry self up off the couch, told the kids to get their slippers on (they were still in their pj's) and we drove to the video store to take back some movies that husband forgot to take this morning. I have managed to stay off of the couch for nearly 4 hours now. I feel it calling my name, I think it misses me.

The Diva has spoken at 7:52 PM CST

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