Ho, Ho, Ho.

Happy Holidays!!!

See why I cuss it out every year?  Go here and read about it.

Yes, our windows are still going in and that's just what things look like this year.  Please ignore it.  

I have one good day to wrap presents and I have to go and beat some sense into a child who's not listening because "Santa's watching" has totally lost its luster.  

The kids, they're all just like, "Fine, whatever.  I don't care if he is watching.  She started it."  

"Its MINE.  Give it back.  Mom.  Moooom!!!  Tell him to give it back."  

"OUCH.  Mom, she slapped me!  She full body listened with her hand.  That's not fair!!!" 

"But he took my wand.  I want my wand!"

"OUCH!!!"

"She full body listened with her hand again.  M-O-M!!!"

"WTF, a wand???  Really kids, all this over a wand???"  Note: I didn't really say WTF.  

"YES!"

They just don't care anymore.  It's cold outside.  We're inside.  There is no routine and we've done everything I had planned for them by 10:00 AM on day one.  Day one.  

I feel like I'm a caged animal at the zoo.  It's label reads, "American Family. We Aim Low."

Someone tell me again, why am I giving these kids presents???

In all seriousness, I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and a Happy New Year.  

I'll be back after the New Year.  

And don't forget to go to Cheesy Bloggers and read about my Damn Tree.

My Open Letter to the App Store.

Dear App Store:

I used to like you, dare I say, love you even.  You gave me time that I once didn't have.  I loved that sense of stealing a little alone time while my kids played on their I-touches, all happy and full of contentment, mindlessly blasting away a few brain cells.  I didn't care.  I had a few minutes to myself and I was willing to sacrifice some of their grey matter to get it.

I was a desperate woman.  And I had to pee.  And I had the opportunity to pee in private.  A love like that comes but once in a lifetime.

Thank you Bridges of Madison County.  

But like in some relationships, I went from infatuation to loathing in no time flat.  Which amazes me really, since we never even had sex.  I digress.

My children are no longer happy with your free Apps and want to purchase new and improved Apps.  Ones that don't have adds popping up while they are playing or trying to direct them to a new site.

But the real reason I may have to break up with you is simple.  My son has found games that require two players.  Things like Chess, Words With Friends and Hanging With Friends.

And here's the thing, I don't even know how to play Chess.  I don't want to learn how to play Chess.  I especially don't want to learn how to play chess while I'm peeing.  And I'm over forty, I don't want to tax my brain like that.  It's too late for me.

It's kind of like downhill skiing.  I don't know how to ski and I'm quite happy to live my life without going down a steep snowy hill, with two wooden waxed-up sticks propelling me downward to certain death or at minimum a broken femur and a brain injury.

I'm OK with not learning how to ski, just as I'm OK to go my whole life without learning how to play Chess.

But then you came along.  And my son loves you.  He adores you and worships the space in the universe in which you reside.  And because of the love he has for you, I have become wrapped into his web and I'm being unceremoniously exploited to work your wiles.

Like crack, my son is hooked.  I took my free time too far and now we're in trouble.

See, it has to end.  I sent this word
to Alex to solve the other day.

I'm now being pinged with game reminders twenty-four/seven.  Alex is waiting for you to solve the game.  Alex is requesting a rematch on Hanging.  It's your move!  Alex is waiting for a solution.  You have seven Hanging updates.  

In one day alone, one game gave me over thirteen reminders that I need to get cracking.  Thirteen reminders!  From one game!!  Games that need to be completed, moves to be made, rematches to be started.  Ugghhh.

It's too much stress.

I can't keep up.

I'm exhausted.

And we never even had sex.

Its so unfair.


Note:  I'm over at Cheesy Bloggers today talking about our Christmas traditions!   

I caught a thief on camera..seriously, you gotta see this.

I swear sometimes this blog writes itself.  I think this post falls under the category of: Shit I Couldn't Make Up Myself, Even if I Tried.  

I'm not going to talk about Autism today.  Instead I'm going to talk about the douche-bag who drove up to my garage door and stole my shit in broad daylight.  That's right.  That fucker down there drove right up to my garage and stole my contractor's leaf blower. 

  

 

That was a big mistake, minster.  

See, we have six external video surveillance cameras at our house.  All motion detected.  So when you drove your sorry ass up the drive, two of the six videos started rolling.  And we caught you on camera. Red-handed.   

Like a good citizen, I turned the video into the police and filed a report.  After we had a good laugh at your expense I posted the video here and also to YouTube.

Your Welcome.  

 

I'm half tempted to bait you and see if you go Christmas shopping on my driveway again.  I want to put garden tools and shit out with a post-it on it that says "SMILE" just so we can get a better picture of your sorry ass.  Because I'm that kind of a girl.   

And to think I was vehemently opposed to having video surveillance at our house and fought my husband tooth and nail when it went in. I didn't like being video-captured all the damn time and felt like we had a real life sleeping with the enemy thing going on.  It made me feel somewhat violated and a little creeped out.

On occasion, I'd take my revenge and would go up to a camera and pull my shirt up like I was in New Orleans begging for beads.  I'd give the camera a free titty show and go about my business.  

Then I realized my husband never watched any of the surveillance footage.  Ever.  All the jiggles and wiggles I did were in vain.  Whatever.  

And then I got over it, forgot about the video cameras and moved on with life.  

Then the other day, we hit pay-dirt.  

Now what makes me feel violated is the fact this scum-bag came up to my house like he owned it and, in under a minute, walked away with something that didn't belong to him.   

You aught to be ashamed of yourself.  

The fact you couldn't back out the damn drive and gave me a lawn job was icing on the cake.  

Just for that, I get first dibs on kicking you in the nuts.  

Note:  If you want to go to YouTube directly and watch this douche-canoe, this will get you there: http://www.youtube.com/user/LizbethCole?feature=watch

Anyone who knows this scum-bag can report him to the Leawood Police in Kansas, 913-642-5555.  

I don't know how I did it but I did. That just sounds weird.

I don't know how I did this but I did.  Yup, still sounds weird.  

Anyway, take a look at that picture down there.  My youngest kid went and stuck her head in the corner after she did the same bad thing about ten times in a row and I got sick of it.  She self-cornered.  

After I got all pissed and blew it, I said something along the lines of, "Gurl, now you've gone and done it.  Momma's mad.  How many times do I have to say NO?  You get yourself to that corner this instant and take a time out."  

And damned if she didn't march her little diapered ass over to that corner and plug her head between the two walls.

I know, they are two of the shortest walls, ever.   Think support beam and open concept.  

Pink prison garb comes standard at out house. 

Like a good mom I took a picture to immortalize it.  Maybe use it as a hand-out at her wedding or something.  I don't know.  And yes, I already know I'm going to hell.  Those of you ahead of me can save me a seat, not too close to the furnace though, you know how protective I am of my face with those big sun hats and all.  Go here if you want to see what I mean (scroll down a bit) and for the love of all things good and holy, stop checking out my ass.     

Anyway.....

It would have been nice to know how I managed to self-corner this kid.  It would have been even nicer if I could have done this with my first two kids.  I'm a thinking it would have probably saved a good seven or eight years of fruitless yelling, bribing, cajoling and/or other awkward discipline moments but whatever.  

I'm still scratching my head.  How the fuck did I do that???

And that's how I'm going to end this post.  Just like that.  

I don't have anything else today except the start of a head-cold and the feeling that I have to go pee sooner than later.  

That should count for something, right?  

Right???

Birthdays, brats and just for fun--a little bit of snow.

My sweet little baby girl turned two yesterday.  Having an older brother and sister she's been in the terrible two's for a good nine months now.  Always desperate to keep up and not one to be left behind she's the one we've rushed to the Emergency Room, picked up out of the ocean and nursed multiple head wounds.  

All because she's the one the other two use as a toy when they get bored.  They have, in no particular order:

• Stuffed her in a blanket, rolled her up like a burrito and then flung her down the hallway to see how far she'd go.  In case any of you are wondering, two feet.    
• Pushed her down the slide outside and watched to see how high she'd bounce when she hit bottom.  They were not happy with the initial bounce so they added items of various thickness to see if it would give her "loft" as Alex called it.  Beach towels gave the most height.  According to Alex, a plank of wood was no different than the ground.  Always good to know.
• Tried to feed her regular milk and cheese to "see what would happen."  Gracie's lactose intolerant.  She puked.  
• Climbed into her crib and tried to shoot her out of it by bouncing the hell out of it.  Then they tried to see if they could get the crib mattress to fit under the slide outside.  It apparently has some really good bouncing ability.
• Painted her finger and toe nails "hooker red" and then proclaimed to the free world, "We have a hooker in the house!  We have a hooker here!"  Yeah, I'll own that.  That was all me.   

Generally speaking she's aged me faster than any of the other kids combined.  

Gracie multitasking.  Yeah, the penguin
back there is in time out.  

Happy Birthday little one.  Your mama loves you and the other two think you're way better than having a dog.  As Lizzy summed it up, "I like her cuz we don't have to walk her and clean up her poop.  You do all of that." 

Cake.
Walmart style.  

On a totally unrelated note we had our first snowfall.

Dropping the kids off to school I slid down the street into oncoming traffic only to hear Lizzy exclaim, "Woooaaa!!  Woo Hoo!!!  Mom, that was great!!!  Can we do that again?!?"

And to hear Alex say, "Mom, did you realize you were in direct violation of about three safety rules?"  He never even bothered to look up from his I-touch.

Snow balls.
How can you not say that and get a giggle?
Go on, say it.
See???

I took a picture of our snow after I damn near killed all of us and calmed my ass down.

That would have been around noon.


Note: I have to thank Tulpen for the use of the words, "snow balls."  She mentioned a prolific use of balls in her Christmas decorations this year and I believe in giving credit where credit's due.  She's over at Bad Words and I love her writing.   


And the cake was five dollars cheaper at Walmart than at Target.  I hauled my ass to Walmart and snapped that thing right up.  I even sported for the sugar letters instead of having Granny back in the bakery write on it.  Cuz seriously, who wants to tempt fate like that?