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Category Archives: fun

Are you drowning or waving?

I feel a lot like I’m drowning recently, but the title is a song lyric and has little to do with this post except that the following will be song lyrics that my kids butcher on a daily basis. They are quite hilarious.

Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People 

My kids sing: All you kids with the pop-tart kicks, you better run, better run faster than my mommy!

Actual lyrics: All the other kids with the pumped-up kicks better run, better run, faster than my bullet.

Colours” by Grouplove  

Kids: I am a man, man, man, man stuck up in the air, and I run around ’round ’round this down down and I don’t have no hair.

Actual lyrics: I am a man, man, man, man up, up in the air and I run around ’round ’round  ’round this town, town and act like I don’t care.

Wheel in the Sky” by Journey 

Kids: Oh the wheel in the sky is a’burning, I don’t know why it’s tomorrow.

Actual Lyrics: Oh, the wheel in the sky keeps on turning, I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow.

Telephone” by Lady Gaga

Kids: Stop calling, stop calling, I don’t wanna drink anymore, I left my head and my arm on the dance floor. Stop tele-funkin’ me.

Actual Lyrics: Stop calling, stop calling, I don’t wanna think anymore. I left my head and my heart on the dance floor. Stop telephoning me.

Another One Bites the Dust” by Queen 

Kids: How d’ya think I’m gonna get a log without you on my own? You took me for everything I said and kicked me outta my phone. Are ya happy? Are ya saggy fried?

Actual: How d’ya think I’m gonna get a long without you when you’re gone? You took me for everything that I had and kicked me out on my own. Are ya happy? Are ya satisfied?

Give up the Funk” by The Glee Cast 

Kids: We won’t do funk. Give us the funk. We peed on funk. Gotta have that punk. We gonna tear this mother, OW! We gonna tear this mother, OW! You gotta real type of crane, going down, getting down, there’s a whole lot of ribbon going ’round.

Actual Lyric: We want the funk, gotta have the funk, we need the funk, gotta have that funk. We gonna turn this mother out. We gonna turn this mother out. You gotta real type of thing, going down, getting down, there’s a whole lotta rhythm going ’round.


Sometimes I giggle, sometimes I have to make sure I’m singing it right.

*Note: Lady Gaga one may not be safe for work, just fyi.*









The Keeper of All Things….

I’m not sure how this happened, but apparently everyone in my house is insane. I say this because the moment I married my husband, I was promoted to The Keeper of All Things In the House. I’m not sure how this happened, and it didn’t come with a crown (which I’m very bitter about) or any kind of cool uniform or anything, it just happened. And I think my family is insane because of it.

Here’s the thing about being the Keeper of All Things in the House: I don’t know where all the things are. No idea, actually. Blissfully unaware most of the time, even.

My son? He knows where every freaking toy he’s ever gotten from McDonalds ever is located. I? Can’t find my backpack three seconds after I sit it down in the afternoons. I’ve also lost every single scrunchy I’ve ever owned within two days. I run around my house every morning screaming things like, “Where are my keys?”, “Where are my pants?”, “Where’s my breakfast?”, “Where are my keys NOW?”.

So I ask you, how did I get this elevated status in my household? Why would my family do this to me? Are they Actually Insane?

Here are some Actual Conversations about missing things over the last few days, which I will contrast with things I’ve lost and where I’ve found them when (hardly) anyone was around…..

Conversations with Others:

  • Son: Mama, where’s my backpack?
    Me: Where’d you put it?
    Son: Right where you’re sitting. Why don’t you know where it is?
    Me: Because I am not the keeper of the things. Check the hook in the hallway.
    Son: FOUND IT! Thanks Mom!
  • Daughter: Mama, where are my clothes?
    Me: In your drawers.
    Daughter: Oh, ok.
  • McHusband: Where’s the toothpicks?
    Me: Honey, I have no idea, I haven’t used them.
    McHusband: You hid them?
    Me: *sigh* NO. I haven’t *used* them.
    McHusband: But why don’t you know where they are?
    Me: Because they aren’t something I use.
    McHusband: (pouty face) But. But you know where everything is.
    Me: OHMYGOD. NO. I. DON’T.
Now, here are things I’ve Actually Lost & where I found them, over the last few days:
  • My phone. Where was it? I was on it.
  • My backpack. It was on my bed, under a blanket. Which I was also under.
  • My iPod. Which was in my backpack. I went to the car to look for it five times.
  • My phone. Again. Yep, still on it.
  • My glasses. They were on my face. I did this three times.
Apparently? I can find other people’s things, but not mine.

Yeah, and that, too.

I dropped my Latin class. And I actually feel okay about it, today. Yesterday, not so much. Today? Yeah.

Someone once said that I tend to chew and bite something, and I’m not sure, but it hadn’t something to do with biting and chewing.

So, I did some of that, figured out I was not able to do what I wanted, and backed up.

Much happier Mama.

On another note, I got my iPod classic yesterday.

And my husband hates this song:

So I try to play it ten thousand times a day.

I’m mean like that.

So, yeah.

One More Random Post….

Because hiking across campus? Is hard. Plus, with the past two night’s sleep combined, I’ve had a total of 6 hours of sleep since Sunday. Yeah, that’s just awesome.

  • Today was a good day. Tuesdays and Thursdays are my “early days” — meaning I get up at about 5:45 A so I’ll have enough time to get myself ready, get the kids ready, make us all something edible and drive across (the small) town to get us all at the school on time.
  • My first class was okay. There’s a lot of requirements, and I have to do each one, obviously, to pass the class. One of those requirements? Means going 5 hours away to Denver to observe classes being taught and kind of see the “other side” of teaching. That means that my husband? Is going to have to take off work to be home for one. whole. day. so that he can do things like take the kids to school, and ya know, things like that. Because I? Have to be at the school to leave for dinner at FOUR AM, y’all (I’m already starting to die a little inside from this). This? Is not going over well with the husband. Sometimes? I wish we lived in FL, closer to family, so I could stop worrying so freaking much.
  • This is my new background on my computer. Yeah, it’s raunchy, but it’s also fabulous:
  • Drool over that one for a few minutes, ladies. Okay, stop now. Time to pay attention to me, now.
  • I’m not advocating that one should walk around with porn on their computer, or anything, and dude, he’s just without his shirt. But, I mean. C’mon. He’s one fine specimen of a man, ya know?
  • I know. I’ll change it. Tomorrow.
  • I miss being able to watch that show. Although it was bad. Really, really, really bad. Like, watched it with my dad once and turned so beat red that my dad thought something was wrong with me. That bad. Like porn. With better dialog. And blood.
  • Ok, I’ve gone off on a tangent about True Blood, but have y’all actually tried the drink? Because it’s really, really good. It’s blood orange juice. And it’s really good. Really.
  • How  many times can I say “really” in one post? At least once more. Really.
  • So, I’m glad I signed up for all the classes I did, because although they seemingly have nothing to do with one another, they are all tying in with one another, which is interesting. At least for today. And, I’m talking about my non-education classes. Russian, Latin & Ancient Greek Civilization. This week I’ve gone over almost the same exact thing in each class. Which is good.
  • Next week? I fully expect that to change and the hail storm to begin of “OhMyGOD I’m so behind and I’ll never catch up and someone hold me!”
  • Because I? Am cool under pressure that way.
  • What? I totally am.

The First Day of College Post

In an easy-to-read bullet-point-style post to boot! (What? It’s easier to read.)

  • My first class of the day, Ancient Greek Civilization, or some such something, was like a slap in the face. Our professor went over the syllabus, but not thoroughly, and he (gasp!) didn’t let us out of class afterwards. If you’ve never been to a community college, then you have no idea why I’m being sarcastic. Community college is basically high school for grown ups. It’s sort of easy, and it’s basically laid back. Now? I’m at the Big Bad University, and apparently, they don’t play that. So, yeah. It didn’t take me by surprise, but some people groaned aloud when the Professor told us to open our books and started lecturing.
  • The course itself is going to be challenging (there’s a theme here of that) — mostly the sheer amount of stuff that I’m going to have to remember/memorize/pretend to know/BS my way through is the part that is going to get me. The subject matter is going to be awesome, so it shouldn’t be hard.
  • After literally sprinting across campus to my next class, I arrived (I thought) early. There were people that were waiting for my class (Latin) sitting outside. Twenty minutes after class was supposed to start, we figured out that Latin had actually started early, and we were now late. Oops.
  • This is going to be one of the hardest classes for me, because learning languages doesn’t come easily to me. I thought it would be the hardest class I would have, until I went to the next class after lunch.
  • After finding one of the oldest buildings on campus and walking in to the closet-sized, no windowed classroom they’d stuffed thirty 1920s-era desks in to, I realized that the class after lunch was going to be crowded and smelly. When twenty men/boys filed in (only four girls) I knew that it would be smelly. And crowded. And uncomfortable. Because those desks straight out of 1850? They aren’t very big. And? When one is right on top of you behind you and filled with a big, burly football player? You’re gonna wanna ask for dinner first, it feels like you are that close to one another.
  • The class itself? Awesome. It’s a Russian History class, which isn’t really my interest or area of expertise, but the class is going to be challenging as hell, which I like. To add to the challenge, our professor is Actually Russian, which means his accent is thick, he’s also Actually 9,000 years old, which means he basically whispers when he talks. Which just adds to the challenge. Because who doesn’t want to wonder what their professor just said and whether or not it was important enough to ask him for the four millionth time to speak up and also repeat what he just said. I mean, when does that become rude?
  • In addition to the rooms being crowded, the whole campus was just overly crowded. I also really adore skateboarders. Zipping through the crowd and almost knocking down everyone in their path? Charming. Trying to do a board flip  in front of you while you’re trying to run to your next class? So adorable. No, really. What? Sarcasm? Me? No way.
So, there’s that.


Excuse me while I take a breath. This weekend (which includes Friday, not Monday) was a mixture of awesome and sucktasticness. I’m really not sure how else to explain it other than to just say, Friday began with me getting in to a fender bender.

The fender bender was more of a “Whuck?!” for me and a “Holy Crap” for the other dude. Long story short: dude behind me was not paying attention, ran into the back of my Expedition with his tiny little Tercell and ended up with a huge hole the size of my fist in his bumper while my Expedition giggled quietly.

Seriously. Not even a scratch.

Color me impressed.

See what I mean, though? Equal parts good and bad. I was happy that my car didn’t have anything wrong with it, but so stressed I couldn’t drive the rest of the day. I literally freaked out, was crying sobbing, because the only other accident I’ve ever been in involved me totaling a car (not my fault, but still) and having huge bruises on my chest and headaches for days, all only three days after I got my license.

So yeah, me and accidents aren’t on speaking terms.

After my husband got home and gave me a firm, but gentle, push back into the driver’s seat? My Expedition and I are, happily, still on speaking terms.

Which is a good thing.

Second sucky thing that happened this weekend: I had another allergic reaction. I’m still unsure as to what is causing it, because I didn’t eat one thing out of the ordinary, or anything that normally triggers it, but still, the hives and floaty-brain-feeling don’t lie, so I ended up taking two Benadryl and sleeping all day Sunday.

Which was the good part. Mama likes her R&R.

The rest of the weekend was kind of a blur.

But because of the Benadryl thing on Sunday, I basically wasn’t very coherent yesterday, which is why I’m writing today instead. Benadryl normally makes me loopy for about two-three days.

Today? I’m not loopy.

Not me.

No sir.

Well, I mean, except when I dropped ten thousand things today. And left my wallet on the top of my car (don’t worry, it’s safe, not left on the side of the road or anything).

I mean, but those? Those are normal occurences for me, so. Nope. Totally fine.


Why I can’t be BFFs with other couponers….

Ok, seriously, though? I would love to find friends that coupon, scrapbook, sew, knit and crochet like I do. I would also lurve to have a friend who got joy and happiness from cleaning other people’s houses, but I don’t see one of those on the horizon.

Today, though, I realized that I probably cannot be friends with a fellow couponer. Because I would call them mean names and tell them that they act like a jackwagon when they shop. Seriously.

Today, I was at the Other Grocery Store in town. (Note: NOT Albertson’s.) I took in my huge ass coupon binder because I am a moron to get some meh deals.

I noticed another couponer asking the dairy guy about yogurt and smiled at her. She looked at my shopping cart, at my binder, then back at me, and her eyes narrowed.

In her mind, it was on.

Now, I understand Binder Envy. It’s sort of what I would imagine Penis Envy would be like. You look at someone else’s binder that is bigger and nicer than yours and you get a little peeved off.

Been there, done that, got the motherflippin’ t-shirt.

So, as soon as I get closer to her, she begins whispering her request for more yogurt product to the dairy guy. I get the drift that she either A) doesn’t want me to hear her (as if I don’t know what’s on sale also) and B) possibly doesn’t think there will be enough to go around.

Did I mention we were in a grocery store? It isn’t like we’re out in the wilderness about to go all Thunderdome on each others asses because there was only one cup of On Sale Yogurt. I mean, for the love of cheese, you can have it honey.

I bought my yogurt yesterday.

The whole rest of the shopping trip was awkwardly seeing her and trying to be nice while she would LITERALLY jump in front of my buggy to grab ninetybillion containers of 99 cent dishwashing detergent (I’m still stockpiled up on that shiznit, anyway, snitch. Plus that was the crappy brand, but whatevs) because GOD FORBID I actually grab a container of dishwashing detergent.

I would grab something and she would grab 10 of the same thing.

Just to screw with her, I would look at a random coupon, nod, look at my list and then grab something random from the shelf. She would get to the item and frantically search for a coupon.

I don’t know if she just wanted to make sure she was getting good deals, or what, but dude.

So, I came to the conclusion that some couponers shouldn’t coupon, or even be out in public for that matter, and also? All us couponers? May Actually Be crazy.

I’ve got to find a new hobby.