A little peeved at our County Government...

Screw trans-fats. And trashy girls, and the Gravitron. We set out Friday evening after I got home from work, suitably attired, myself in a strappy tank and Capri's, (I just couldn't bring myself to roll out in the cut-offs), BabyDaddy in some Bass Pro Shop/hunting t-shirt, and the Muffin in a muscle-man/wife beater, (it’s a shame he hasn’t any back hair –tee-hee!). We were READY. We pulled up to the entrance gate, and then stopped dead. “Are these people crazy??!!” I heard BD yelp. As I turned to see what the fuss was about, I saw it. A huge sign, red letters blaring, $10 PER PERSON. After a brief discussion, we decided we would just go be trashy someplace else. What happened to the days of $6 fair admission?! I told BD we would just wait for the State Fair. It costs less, and is a whole lot bigger, (more opportunities to both be and observe the trashiness). So, no county fair this year. We went to O’Charley’s instead. Thank GOD I had a cardigan in the Trailblazer (and didn’t wear those cut-offs), and packed a decent change of clothes for the Muffin.

T-Minus 4 days until our departure!!! If I could jump up and dance on my desk without flashing my unmentionables at everyone coming into the building (darn you crazy huge window), I certainly would. My attention span is already shot to heck. I keep revising and rewriting my shopping and packing lists in my head. (Will I really need one of those floppy beach hats? Probably not, but they’re so cute and sophisticated! How may pairs of shoes will fit into our big suitcase? Maybe I should pack a spare to be safe…) Etc. Etc. Etc. I only have to make it through today, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I took a half-day on Thursday, and then we’re off Friday (Happy Birthday America!). THEN – we’re outta this place!!!!!! I’m coming Ocean!!!

I Heart Trans-Fats

Tonight, I am going to the fair. I'm going to eat greasy food, make fun of the trashy girls, and get sick on the Gravitron. It is going to be PHE-nomenal. That is, if this blasted rain will stop. Fortunately, it appears to be passing quickly and should blow over. (It better - I've been excited about this for weeks!) I thrive on county fairs. Where else can you win a goldfish, get your name airbrushed on a license plate, and see guys who have pornographic tattoos over 75% of their bodies??!! It's amazing! Last year of course, the Muffin was too little to truly appreciate the wonderful-ness of the County Fair, but this year the little man is gonna get schooled!

I ordered a Beach Tent today for our upcoming sojourn. This is when I hate being so anal about being prepared for EVERYTHING. I have to have a Plan A, a Plan B, and then a Plan B-1 just in case. Although I do think this tent thing was a wise purchase. My bff Ames came back from the beach and told me that they charge a ridiculous amount to rent beach umbrella's, so I figured the tent would be well worth it. I've already got a running shopping list in my head of all the things we need, although I'm going to have to get everything on the sly. For some reason, BabyDaddy thinks it doesn't make sense to spend more preparing for a trip than the actual trip itself. I don't get that.

The Muffin is in the "parrot" phase. I adore it! He repeats everything--He's taken up calling BD by his first name which I think is hilarious. I guess I yell at him too much... Anytime the little man wants something, he'll go through the house shouting "Kev! KEEEeeeeevv!". Of course, BD does not find this especially amusing, and is constantly replying, "DADDY. I'm Daddy." :) He's also started saying "Aw MAN!" whenever he thinks he is going to get in trouble, which also makes me giggle. However, it usually means something dramatic has happened, (dropped my jewelry in the toilet, called Taiwan on my cell phone, etc.) so I usually scamper pretty quickly when I hear him say those words.

All right -- I'm nearing the end of my lunch hour, so I'll be off. I'll be sure to update later on the events of this evening!!

Tick-Tock....

In ten days, I will be on the beach. In ten days, I will be on the
beach. In ten days, I will be on the beach.

Can I make it that long? Not so sure. And worse yet, what will I have to count down to when I come back? That's another question for another day. A day exactly seventeen days from now, so I'll work on that bridge when I get there. I am so excited to be going away -- Anywhere "away" is acceptable, however, being away at the beach is especially exciting. I can't wait for the little guy to see the ocean! Of course, like most other kids, he'll probably be scared of the waves, hate the sand, and after half an hour of intense bubbly-ness from me, ("But honey, look at this totally cool jagged shell!!!" "Don't you just LOOOVE this sandcastle??!!"), the Muffin will demand to be taken to the hotel pool forthwith. Thank God I sprang for a place that had a lazy river.

I just finished another Marian Keyes book, and I LOVED IT. She is my guilty pleasure. And I ADORE the fact that she's Irish. I've been saying things like, "Bloody hell!" and, "You shagging well BETTER get to your room mister!". Needless to say, BabyDaddy thinks I've gone mad, and looks at me cross-eyed every time I say another lilting Irish slang word. (Who would have guessed that talking like you're Irish would be so enjoyable?!)

For CB.....

Ask and ye shall receive my friend. In order to bring you up to speed on the past couple of weeks, (holy cow, has it been that long?!)

**The Muffin is now officially sleeping through the night again. THANK YOU JESUS. And to all those of you who insisted he would NEVER sleep in his own bed all night unless I made him, (including you Dr. S. -- even though you're my pediatrician and I love you like O2), I DIDN'T LISTEN TO YOU AND I'M GLAD. I did not spend one evening letting my son "cry it out". I think that's some barbaric crap, and you just bring it if you'd like to tell me otherwise...

**We had our first trip to the zoo. What a good time! That is, if you take out the crazy heat, the other screaming kids and their useless parents, and the elephant who thought it was funny to throw wet hay at me.... Regardless, it really was a good day. The bebe' fell asleep toward hour #4, (Thank God for you Ames. You and that blessed wagon with fold-flat seats saved my life) Anyway, the family favorite were the baby monkeys, and of course the Bug House. ("Bugs MaMa! BUGS! EWWWW!")

**BabyDaddy has been in Canada hunting some kind of bear. If he kills one, he wants to make it into a rug. I told him I would be happy to allow him to do so, as long as he realized he will be sleeping on it for the rest of his life. He didn't know it, but I dumped some Tide in his "Scent-Lock/Scent Removal" laundry wash. My little one-up for the animal kingdom. If those bears don't run away when they smell "Rain Fresh Waterfalls", then they deserve to get shot.

**Operation Country Living has been placed on temporary hold. My job has been crazy busy, and we've been taking time out to enjoy the summer. Babymakin' is still on the horizon -- we are looking to late summer/early fall this year. At that point, big decisions will have to be made about a lot of things.

MMM-kay. Think that about wraps 'er up. Oh--no wait! Several salutations are in order for two of my other VIP audience members. Here's to you girls!!!!

A HUGE Congrats goes up north to my Canadian cousin and her simply gorgeous new addition!! It took him a while, but he's finally here!!! Yay bebe' T!

And another big hug and congratulations goes to my friends the Pooh's. Happy nine months H!!! I'm so excited for you!!

Another jewel in the crown of the City Fire Department...

So my weekend was most certainly not the stuff dreams are made of. Well, my Sunday at least. Saturday actually was quite enjoyable. We made the trip down (again) to the farm, this time with my in-laws in tow. Daddy G has this obsession with an Amish painter who lives 15 minutes away from my mom down in God’s Country. So every May, after his birthday, he makes the drive down to get more of the Amish man’s work. Since BabyDaddy and I have now been together for five years, and his parents have never been to my house, we thought now would be as good a time as any to have them over for a BBQ on the river.

We spent the morning and early afternoon stuck behind various horse-drawn vehicles, but managed to make stops at the Amish Painter’s, the Amish General Store, and their Greenhouse as well. Then, we headed down to the holler at Mom’s for a fish fry. My friend Jess got to join us, which was lovely, and we ended up not arriving back home until after midnight.

Then comes Sunday. To preface, the Muffin was in a stormy mood all day. I think it was a mix of allergies and him being dog-tired from all the excitement of Saturday. He woke up early, and I got the cartoons started and his breakfast ready. (None of that “t.v. is bad for kids” dialogue now, I’m sick to death of it. If he wants to watch Sponge Bob all day, then darn it, he shall. ESPECIALLY when he’s in a rotten mood to start with – it keeps me sane.) When we finished that, I stepped outside to water the flowers we had gotten at the Amish Greenhouse. I’m normally not a very good plant person, all of mine most usually die, but I was determined to keep these alive since we just bought them. I could have sworn that I made sure the door was unlocked….. as soon as I stepped outside, I heard the door slam, and a maniacal giggle. My first thought was “OH CRAP”. Then my stomach dropped. I ran through the back gate and to the patio doors. Locked. He ran up, laughing and waving like crazy. “MaMA! MaMA!” (Yes, my sweet, isn’t this fun?) I ran to the bedroom windows, banging on them like a madwoman. Also locked. I see his little fingers pull at the blinds and he maneuvers himself in between them and the window. “Hi Mama!” I went so far as to ask him to unlock the window, then I realized, “Heck, my kid’s smart, but he's not THAT smart…”. I ran over to the neighbor’s house to use her phone (in my rattiest pajamas as you could have guessed). I call BD and go back to the house to wait. We played peek-a-boo through the front window until I could hear sirens screaming. BD and crew rode up in full glory -- as soon as the Muffin saw the firetruck, he started jumping up and down, and screaming "DADADADADADADA!!!" Yay. Of course, all the firemen roll out of the truck and up the driveway to belittle me while BD unlocks the house and picks up the Bebe'. BD's good friend patted me on the back and said, "Glad we could be of service to you ma'am." I gave him the finger. "Dada Truck!" said the Muffin, pointing to the fire engine, pleased as apple pie.

It's five o'clock somewhere......but not here.

It's Friday, and it's raining. Again. I'm feeling especially draggy today. The nastiness outside just makes me want to curl up under a quilt and read until I fall asleep. I'm staring at Red (the office fish). He just puffed up and gave me his best fighting fish-face. Guess he's feeling gloomy too. Shall I whine some more, or shall I actually talk about something with substance? Hmmm. Feel like whining.

IwanttogohomeI'mreallytiredofbeingheretodayI'vehad
acrazylongweekandit'sstillnotoverWhenwillitbeover
Idon'tknowprobablyneverthat'showifeelrightnowthissecond
IjustlookedattheclockandthoughtSURELYit'sfivebynowbutitsnot.

**SIGH** I feel much better now thanks. I just took a swig of the world's worst coffee, and as soon as it hits my veins I'll be fine. I left the house in a wreck this morning. BabyDaddy finally came home from his training/farting around in Tennessee. I watched him as he surveyed the damage. I saw him take in the over-turned laundry basket, the congealing dishes in the sink, the dog gnawing on a stale rice cake, and a little trail of rainbow goldfish crackers leading to the Muffin's closet.... His eyes got bigger and bigger, and then he looked at me and I calmly said, "I have been a single parent for 4 days. In those four days, company came over twice, your son cut three teeth, and the dog ate my toothbrush. DO. NOT. SAY. A. WORD. He didn't. :) Smart man, that BabyDaddy.

Whiskey Bent....

So, I've had a completely shoddy day here at the Office. I literally haven't had the time to get a cup of coffee. I noticed that alarming fact round about 11am when my hands started to quiver, and I got a shooting pain behind my left eyeball. Bear in mind that by this point in my day, I'm usually nursing my 3rd cup. So, after the shakes started, it was about time for lunch. I got in my car, turned the key, and the gas light came on. (I love my car, but at that moment, I wanted to give it the finger.) I coast down to the corner Marathon -- after I swiped my debit card, I happened to glance at the price, and I think I threw up a little bit in my mouth. $3.75 PER GALLON!!! I printed out the receipt so I can put it in my scrapbook. $10 got me 2.3 gallons. I had to laugh. If I didn't, I would have burst into hysterical tears. Feeling myself spiral down toward a minor depressive episode, I headed for the nearest McDonald's, where I ordered a double cheeseburger, a huge Sweet Tea, and 3 chocolate chip cookies. **Screw you diet -- I'm doing what I want today** I parked in their lot under some trees to eat and read my book. I started to calm down -- I was putting some crumbs from the hamburger bun on my side mirror and watching the cute little sparrows flit around. "This is nice," I think, slouching back in my seat. "I'm feeling better." At that point, I hear a "SPLISH! GLOOP! SPLAT!" The lovely little birds I had been feeding just shat on my windshield. Next time I'm putting out rat poison, the little buggers. After I shrugged that off, and thought, "Well, at least it's quiet here, and I can enjoy my book -- also succeeding in avoiding my poopy windshield for the moment, a car pulls up beside me. The windows roll down, and then I hear him put in a CD. Country twang explodes from his speakers, and ol' Hank starts to croon:

"Play me some songs about a ramblin' man, put old Jim Beam in my hand. 'Cause you know I still love to get drunk and hear country sounds.. But don't you play 'Your Cheatin' Heart', cause that'll tear me all apart. Then I'll get whiskey bent and
hell bound...."

Then, this freak starts to sing!!!! I AM NOT LYING. I burst into uncontrollable laughter. I'm not sure how the guy heard me over all the racket emanating from his jacked-up truck, but he did, and the look he gave me was not the brightest. I crammed the rest of my cookie in my mouth, and pulled out of the lot, still barking my head off. What a day. :)