Having burned all my candles at all ends, I am now headed to the beach for 5 days of fun and sun. 

Haha - yes my kids are coming with me so technically it won't be all fun, but we will be with friends who have kids that when mixed with mine make them all behave fairly well.  What's even better is that they play together almost non stop so the adults actually get to sit and talk adult talk without too many interruptions.  Of course it takes us a few days to warm up to that, for the first few the adults sit in silence and totally love the fact that the only thing we hear is the surf and the clink of top being popped off a Corona.

This trip can't come at a better time. Work is getting busy, the house is still being unpacked, family commitments are pulling me in a thousand directions, and instead of me thinking about it for one hot second, I'm going to drink fruity drinks with rum, sit and fill my body with plenty of vitamin E, and watch my kids frolic in the surf.  If things go well, I will come back rested and renewed and ready to take on the world.  Or, even better I will convince hubby to ditch the rat race and we'll become those people who live at the beach all year round with hippie kids who are brown from the sun and never wear shoes, and we'll live of $10 a day from me having an icee stand and life will be simple and i think we would truly be happy.

Right now my choices are for my kids, and being a beach bum seems to selfish.  Ah, but it is a great dream.

I used to be very engaged in the news, I get the Washington post every day, Peter gave me the nightly highlights, and Newsweek was something I looked forward to seeing in the mail.  But in the past 6 months, I've stopped listening, and I've tuned it out, and I don't know when I'll be able to tolerate it again.  I took the election in stride, I knew before hand that Kerry wasn't going to win, and I'd resigned myself to well, you voted for him, your stuck with him.  I live in an area that is booming with federal dollars so things aren't bad financially at home, I live with a bunch of upper-middle class folks so no one has kids over in Iraq, and in my day-to-day life things are pretty ok.  But I can't watch the news and I can't read the paper because everything I hear and see pisses me off to much and I feel powerless to fix it; moreover I don't see anyone with power stepping up to confront it. I just can't believe this country isn't in an uproar over the bullshit that's going on.  I think we've all tuned out, turned off.  How many people watched that press conference the other night?  I made sure it wasn't on, I don't have the stomach to hear it, hell I don't even know what he talked about.  So where is the outrage going to come from?  God damn Bono and Brad Pitt are all we got? I know I'd start watching again, paying attention if some of the news was about someone in power saying Fuck This, I'm calling a spade a spade and we're going to get conversations out in the open. 

I keep wondering where I live, what country I'm really in.  Here's a clue, there is no liberal media anymore, they've been shut off and shut down.  There is no liberal voice, they don't know what to say.  There is no one in a federal leadership role who is willing to stand on the courage of their conviction.  Fuck, John McCain was called crazy by his own people because he actually tries.  He must see that he needs to be quiet now if he wants any chance of winning the nomination.  So whose going to do it?  The only people getting fucked are the poor, working poor and military families (who are mostly working poor).  The white rednecks don't seem to care that they're taking it up the ass because at least they got god in the schools, guns in houses and gays of the marriage roles.  So there is no check and balance.  This is truly the tyranny of the majority.

A civics lesson - John Stuart Mill was British philosopher and economist in the 19th century. One of his most famous essays is "On Liberty".  In it he talks about the tyranny of the Majority and says this:


I wonder who will step up to balance this, to prevent this from going farther?  I used to believe in the supreme court and it's role of this - not anymore.  Counting on our federal leaders to do it seems unlikely. The majority has acquiesced to this tyranny, so I dont know where in the public this will rise up in outrage. There will be some catalyst that pisses people off enough to see what's happening, how the social rules have become federal laws and soon will look more like a muslim state than a free one. Good help us that we find someone who can 'splain this to us in common terms, not polysci geek speak so that bubba down the road will understand.  Until then, to keep me from becoming one of those people you see standing on the street with wacky handpainted signs in downtown dc, I'll just keep the news off.

This concludes your lesson for today, next week we'll be discussing Machiavelli's The Prince and it's relevance in Bush Politics and the Iraq war. 

Ok Gents, here's some advice for you that will save your ass every time....

1.  When you wife has a doctors appointment, make you sure you check in with her the morning of to see how she's doing, and then call to see how it went after the appointment is over.  This is especially important if it's a somewhat serious dr. visit, or one of those where she's not sure what may be wrong, but is definately worried.  It is NOT ok to call after the appointment and talk about other shit going on around the house and then eventually get around to asking what the Doc had to say.  She will be too pissed to talk about it at that point.

2.  The longer you've been married the more you should be aware of certain patterns or habits that your wifes life may have.  Say for instance, how her PMS flares up.  My guess is that it's probably pretty consistent, you should know after several years if she has bad PMS or mild, and what sort of symptoms come with it.  So, when you're wife is really bitch and wants to snap your head off, AND it's that time of the month.  Don't fucking fight back.  First, you'll lose, she is way to powerful and amped up on estrogen to give you any sort of fighting chance, and secondly, if you'd been paying attention, you'd know that she's not really mad at you, she's just bitchy from the whole PMS thing and it's best to take her licks like a Man and keep your fucking mouth shut.

3.  If you have certain chores that are yours and yours to do around the house, don't act like you're doing the world a huge fucking favor when you actually do them.  Guess what, we take care of a ton of shit for you every damn day.  When was the last time you bought your own underwear anyway? Do you see us walking through the house switching out towels saying - oh my this sure is a lot to do, I've got to keep clean towels around for everyone, whoah, don't think I'll be able to do diner tonight?  So, yeah for you, you get to mow the lawn! It shouldn't take all freakin day (unless you live on a farm which most of you don't) given all the equipment and tools and gadgets you bought to do this chore. AND, it does not mean that the 3 other things we aske for help on today get blown off!

4.  Just because you did some stuff as a kid does not mean it's ok for your sons to do it.  It's not funny for kids to run up to the neighbors houses and ring doorbells then ran away.  It's even more not funny that you if you teach them the name of the game and don't take it serious. Yes, you used to do it as a child, yes you did worse, but here's a clue, the onreyness that was tolerated in the early 70's is not anymore.  It's not something to be proud of, and yes the kids may take after you in their creative troublemaking, but make sure you punish them the same way you do when they smart off to you.

and Finally, after a long day of 1,2,3,4

Hard wirey wiskers do not feel good on crotches or faces for that matter.  If you want some action shave that mess.
 

I am going to the outer banks this weekend.  I plan to soak up the sun, listen the ocean, rejoice in my children cavorting in the sand.  And stand in the waves up to my ankles.  Why you ask?  Irrational fear from watching JAWS as a young child? Seeing the surfer girl who is now minus and arm? Stupid paranoia given the news of late?  Yes, Yes, and Yes!  This http://www.nbc10.com/news/4349378/detail.html is what's happening in Florida.  In the story you will learn that they are migrating north.  Well what is north of Floriday?  North Carolina!  See here for some more statistcs on where sharks might find you: http://www.flmnh.ufl.edu/fish/sharks/statistics/GAttack/mapusa.htm.

All I can say is swimming pool here I come.

Today my son farted on my head - yep, like father like son!

If you come from a well functioning family then you know, without a doubt, you are loved.  Of course, you do, you grew up with it around you, hugs, encouragement, support.  It's a foundation that lots of life gets built on.  I can do this because I know I'm loved.  I can try this because I know people are there to catch me.  When you grow up with some questions about just how loved are you - well the foundation is not so hot.  It's crumbly around the edges, it's easy to question how strong it is.  Lots of people I love have bad foundations; I wonder if we have some radar to find each other because we know we need more than what the parents were able to give.  What's funny is that none of us can tolerate the wallowers - whoah-is-me, I had a bad childhood - yeah well buck up buddy.  We come across as super strong, invincible, capable of conquering great things -  it's our protective armour that's been built up to make sure no one else can get in and make us vulnearable.

I'm lucky in that my hubby and best friend know me in that way that I have a hard time talking about.  They get that there are days where I feel like I'm standing on quick sand, that my life could fall in around me, and that it's not depression, it's not that I'm crazy, it's just I got a shaky foundation.  I forget that I'm loveable,  that I'm capable, that I'm worthy of something.  Sometimes they forget too, and that makes me sad.  Actually it pisses me off.  I'm furious that one person can have such a huge impact on your whole fucking life, that the soul is built in such a way that it really needs both parents that it craves that love and affection, and that without it, well it means you have good days and bad, that you have struggle to remember you are loved.

There is redemption in this story in my kids. Knowing that they will never have that doubt, that ache of why, that shaky foundation actually helps me with my own shit.  When they're older I'll explain in little bits how it affects me - they need to understand why their mother and father are nutty some days!  But they won't have the hole, and somehow that makes my life just a little bit easier. 

This posting is a reminder to know you are loved.  If you ever have a day when you're just feeling like crap, know that someone else gets it, I can see in that dark spot and put light there.  I know how much it hurts and promise that you are not alone.  You are loved. 

I am hiring several positions at work, sadly none of the job descriptions look like this:

Looking for a mad scientist or other evil genius who is capable of transforming common, everyday working mom into a super hero or mutant.  Must be able to gentically reverse the last 15 years and return the Mom's shape back to original,early-20s state with perky breasts and cute high ass.  Must also possess skills and know how to alter, in a wolverine-esque manner the internal workings of the Mom to allow her have super human stamina so she can chase small children, manage her house, pay bills and make love to the huby all at the same time.  Additional skills include ability to enhance memory to allow large cateogorizations of lists, ie groceries, work, birthdays, etc. Certifications in fertility, child rearing and other motherhood skills also desirable.  Degree in mad science perferred, but equivalent experience will be considered.  Ideal opportunity for Mad scientists who are mothers.  Please send salary requirements and references of others you've transformed.

They don't call it monster.com for nothing you know!

One of the main reasons we moved (besides being crammed like a good damn cock in a condom) was so that our kids would have more friends nearby and we would have neighboors with kids and therefore make more of our own friends and be around others just like us. So we looked and searched and reviewed and finally picked a great house. It has a ton of space inside - hence the knick name "Castle" and even better - there are more kids than we can count.  As in across the street, behind us, beside us, caddy corner in all directions to us.  Fuck, they are everywhere and mine are loving it.  It's like the 1950's , the kids rush out into the backyard and head toward the noise.  There are kids the same age as my little man, and there are kids the same age as missy.  It's just what we wanted!

Along with the kids comes the greeting of neighbors over fences, matching mothers to kids and figuring out parenting styles and family beliefs (do you drink, can I say FUCK in front of you, and if I mention the word porn will you faint - the jurry is out on all 3 vital quesitons).  Simply, I have moved into a neighborhood of families with communal backyard which means I live in a commune!  People are coming in and out of my house to say hi, get their kids, provide drinks.  I have found myself on 3 different decks 3 different nights chit chatting while the kids go back and forth across a few yards.  I've already seen that there are several back yard "clicks" and I'm right at the intersection point of them - I think I'm the Swiss and just going to be neutral, but still an intersting dynamic.  After a total of being there 5 days, the non-conformist in me is rebelling.  I mean, I wanted to have more friends, I had the vision of me heading over the neighboors in capris with margarita's in hand, I wanted to be that 50's mom, but duh, I'm not, never have been, and the more uptight those around me are, the more I have impules to get drunk and stand naked on the deck singing.  You know, spice up the yard a little.

Ok, deep breath Amy, it's been 5 days, and I really don't know these people at all. I'm worried because they all seem so perfectly vanilla, and deep down I need some diversity and a little bit of rebellion.  There are no "Sally has two Mom's" living nearby.  A lot of the women are stay at home.  I don't think they fly as lose as I do with booze, sex and rock and roll - and trust me, I'm not really all that lose.  So I'll have to wait and see.  I need to find the Mom who has conformed to the rules but deep down is thinking about a sex swing for the guest room once the kids move out.  I need to find the neighbors that saw VanHalen in their heyday, smoked some weed, and now have moved out here to give their kids a great life.  I'm going to find that mom that says, hey if you don't want your kids to cuse, to bring 'em around me.

I picked the house for me, I picked the neighborhood for my kids, now I've got just what I wanted - right?

I made the mistake of going to work on the day that the movers came.
Hubby called me every few hours to give me am update on how they were
doing, what got broke, and whatbother stuff was being delivered.

Finally at 3, I was too excited to work anymore, so I headed over to the
ol place for one last look, a goodbye and then was planning on getting
the kids and going to the castle.

Call hubby tp tell him thr plan and he asks "uh, what do you need me to
dom, I'm rally tired." I rattle off the obvious while curtailing my
tounge so he doesn't hear 'fuck whay can I figure what needs done and
you can't?'

Just as we were saying goodbye, I open the door to the old place and
there ia my dog. HUH? Step in a few more paces and see 2 fish tanks on
the counter, walk down the hall and see a batheoom full of stuff that
was supposed to have gone in a car over there ot put in a box so the
movers could take it.

Ill spare you all the rant in my head about how fucking tired he is is
bullshit because the MOVERS, paid professioals did all the work.

Instead I said, honey, I can tell you what you fucking need todo, unless
were leavinh this lady our fucking pets, tampons and toothpaste, you
need to get the fuck over here and help make another trip. Jesus that
shit makes me mad!

We're moving this week into our new big 4000 sq ft. house which has been renamed, "The Castle".  It's twice the size of the old space, a place where we can settle with kids for the next 20 years and most importantly have other families nearby so our kids will finally have some neighborhood friends.  At first, I was  worried about the whole decision, it's a lot more money, and I was anxious that we wouldn't like it - typical over analyzing of a problem till I reach the absurd.  In the first week all those fears have been quelled, and while I know there will be things about the house I hate, when I'm there, I feel like I'm home.

The problem that I have is that we has a family have too much stuff.  WAY TO MUCH.  I know this because I have spent the last 4 months packing it. The first wave came in the decluttering project to make the house we just sold look spacious, the second wave of packing happened right after we got the new place so I could get ahead a little, and now this week is the official move where all the crap gets located to the new place.  The thing of it is, the shit is multiplying.  Just when I think I've got an entire room packed and ready to go, I see something else that needs to go in a box.  Just when I think all the prints and art are off the walls and over at the new place, I realize there are still things on the walls that need to come off.  I feel like I am the stereotypical over consuming Gen Xer - and now I have the family that has also taken on the role of acquiring as much shit as possible.  I am tempted to just throw it all away.  Not the furniture, not the clothes we wear, but everything else - just take it over to goodwill.  We don't need it all, my kids don't play with a third of what they own, so why the fuck am I moving it?

This may be a reaction to being lower-middle-class growing up, we didn't always get something because we wanted it.  So now, if I want something I get it.  My kitchen is a testament to that.  I have more fucking kitchen appliances and pots and pans than any one person should own.  Got a bunch for my wedding, but why?  How often do I really use the ginormous crock pot?  What about the bruan hand mixer - maybe 10x in the last 9 years?  But it got moved, dragged along with all the other crap.  I am tempted to be like that guy who put all his possessions on eBay - just sold the lot and then had a fresh start.  I wonder how long it would take me to re-accumulate all the crap I got rid off?

The good news is that are very large house can easily hold all the crap we currently own and even grow to accommodate more. I think I'm going to make rule though that any new thing that comes in the house means something of equal size or value has to leave.  Bring in a new toy, get rid of an old one.  Bring in a new pair of shoes, get rid of an old pair.  At least I would reach some equilibrium.  Today I declare this summer will be known as the summer of weeding.  With each thing I unpack, I'm going to examine it's worth, do I need it, where should I put it and if not I'm getting rid of it.  Nothing will be safe.  My family will groan and I'm sure my hubby will hide things, but it has to be done, otherwise we'll outgrow this house in a year or two, and then where will we go?

This Friday my son graduated from pre-K and to mark the occasion, they had a ceremony and party for them. Imagine a bunch of parents and family members in rows of minature chairs, dads lined up in the back with camcorders, and in march nine 5 year olds all dressed up and wearing a cap and tassle.  The ceremony was short but they did do the pledge of allegiance, signed the ABC's (more on that in a minute) and sang an "action" song.  My little man was very serious - he spent the whole week being anxious, wanting to make sure he did everything perfect -  we practiced at home so that he felt more comfortable, but still when they paraded in he had that face, of part embarassed smile, part serious concentration.  He may have his Dad's sports gene's, but he's got his mama's over-acheiveing ones too.  The night of the event he was given the very important task of counting off before each activity.  1-2-3 - and then all the kids would do their thing - my boy, the leader!

While I'm shocked that he will be 6 in a few months, I'm happy that we've coordinated taking the kids out of that school, the graduation, and moving to a  new house this week make, all the changes at one time so the transition goes better, we like to do bulk changes rather than long drawn out kind.  I used to love his day care/pre-school.  The teachers were top notch, the learning started very young, and you just knew you child was well taken care of, had fun, AND learned a thing or too.  But in the past few years things have gone down hill - not in a dramatic, get my kids the heck out of here way, but in that hmmmm, really, you didn't do any lessons today, sort of way.  We know why it's happening, they got a new center director and she's awful, so, all the good teachers have quit, the news one, if they're any good don't stay long, and what you know have is a babysitting service, not an extension of your family.  Like I said, I'm glad we're getting out.

So, for graduation the kids wanted to show us what they learned - they signed the ABC's.  Was there a deaf child in the class you ask - no.  Were there lessons about diversity and respecting all kinds of kids - nope.  Just some fancy finger work.  Now, I guess its good that kids know how to sign the ABC's, I mean, that way they'll really be able to talk to other deaf kids right?  Oh wait, not really THEY CAN"T SPELL YET!   I was hoping to see some reading in action - look we can read cat, hat, mat, bat, fat, and rat.  Or how about a song like c-o-w spells cow, or 2+2 =4 to a catchy beat?  Nope, we got signing the ABC's and a song about ducks and they got to shake their butt. 

Ok, I know, there is NO way I could ever be a teacher of a pre-K class - especially the one my son was in, 9 kids and 7 of them were boys - it was like lord of the flies in there, and just keeping them from harming and destroying the class would be a small feat.  Still, the point of pre-K is to get those kids to learn to sit the fuck down, listen to your teacher, and learn something.  The teacher I think tried, but I don't think she really knew what she was doing in a pre-K class.  So, the good news is that my son had a fun year, and now sign the alphabet - just this morning, I signed n-o and he figured out I was saying no!  Even better, he's a smart boy, so he won't be screwed when he goes to school.  He can read some, and his math skills are excellent - its kind of shocking to see him in action, one he figures out the logic behind the math, he's off to the races.  Still, that's some good ol parenting that brought that out, and despite my $1500/month at that school for both my kids, I don't think I can give them much credit.

So its good bye preschool, good bye baby boy, goodbye toddler, hello homework, dances, girlfriends (whores!), sports, and all the great things the school brings with it.  Still I shed a few tears that night, some were releif for leaving, but most were just for being so proud of him and seeing what a great kid he is. 

I have made a fatal error in parenting.  To overcompensate for my feelings of abandonment and inadequacy, I have showered my daughter with affection and praise.  Her father has made her the apple of his eye, and now at the tender age of 3 she knows it.  Today as I was leaving the house, I said my usual "Goodbye Missy" to which she replied, "I not Missy, I Princess Missy".  Oh my.  Now I know my own daughter, her apple didn't fall far from my tree and to see her first point out I was wrong, and then in the most serious, I totally believe what I'm saying face, declare that she is royalty, I knew it, I was screwed.  In a different time, I would have thought the comment cute or endearing, but you had to be there to see it, it was the look she gave. She is royalty, she is a princess and the rest of the family better be ready.

Secretly I love this, I love her confidence, I love that she sees herself as worthy of such an austere title.  But standing there this morning I had the movie moment where the world spins and the future rushes before me.  Her standing there at 16, long beautiful blond hair, hands on her hips, the same face, and her demanding that her royal highness gets what she wants; demanding the best for her princess self.  I guess I should think about knocking her down a few pegs, make sure she knows the importance of humility and modesty.  YUCK!   I a going to feed her inner-highness,  I'm going to insist that she only date men worthy of being called prince charming, and I'm going to teach her about how royalty works hard to take care of the estate and makes sure the estate grows to support them.

I can hear the lectures now - hell my mom would give me one if she knew this is how I felt - lots of talk about how the harsh reality will slap her in the face eventually and then this style of parenting will leave her totally fucked up. You know why I say no to that - because I know lots of girls who grew up as a princess, who had lots of confidence and made opportunities for themselves, who demanded their subjects be loyal, and who demanded the best for themselves.  Here's a clue, it's not fun being the pauper, it's much easier being the princess.  Why do think Cinderalla ends up the princess - you don't see the sliper get lost and she goes back to scrubbing floors.  Will she have her ups and downs, you bet, but if she believes herself royalty, then bully for her.

And me, well, simply, if she is the princess, that makes me - The Queen.  And it's good to be the Queen.

Mom asked how my BIL was doing - not the emails from hell, but his new daughter.  I gave her the run down, crazy mother, fighting just to see the child, pushing BIL away.  And she replied - "you know, maybe it's better if he does go, I mean look at you Amy, you were much better off without 'him' in the picture".

I had a choice.  Was that the moment that I shattered my mothers reality and explained to her why I was not ok, that I wasn't better off, that it took years for me to not think I was unlovable, that I still wonder almost daily about what my bio is doing, that I wonder if he thinks about me.  The moment seemed like an eternity while I played out my options, its amazing how many angles and conversation trails you can go down in a millisecond.  Today was not the day. I changed the subject so that she wouldn't notice the silence.  I just couldn't tell her the truth, she would have moved the blame to herself.  Mom is happy with her version of the universe and the truths she holds in it.  The fact that her world may not line up with reality is ok and everyone around her caters to that.

Someday I would like to tell her the truth, I think it would heal things in me, but I worry to much about what it would break in her. She doesn't believe herself to be strong, in the last few years, I have become the rock she leans on, and telling her about the big gaping hole in the middle of me would be too much.

Instead I went upstairs and cried and hubby using his awesome hubby senses came up to check on me, got the run down of the last 10 mintues and proceed to fix me up.  He has this way of looking at me that I love it makes that dark spot inside me feel like a gap and not a chasm.  He has this great way of making me look in his eyes when I'm trying to hide from myself, it makes me confront the reality of what was said and move past it.  He looks at me with love and I realize I'll be ok, I have my own rock to lean on.

Minutes later I bounded back down the stairs, the moment passed and went back to being the best daughter I can be, determined that my Mom have a fabulous weekend.

Honey, don't use that wash cloth in the shower.  Why hubby, did you use it to clean? No - just don't use it.  Well I just finished washing my face with it so its a little freakin late to declare it shouldn't be used.  And besides, why in the heck is there a washcloth IN the shower if you can't fucking use it?  Honey, maybe you should just throw it away.  Hubby, you really want me to throw this in the trash?  What the fuck is on this thing - jesus, I just scrubbed my face with it.

Shit

Shit?

Yeah, your daughters shit.  When she had that accident in the shower a little bit of it got on there and I've been meaning to pick it up but it was wet. Ok, news flash for the family. THE NEXT TIME SOMEONE GETS SHIT ON A WASHCLOTH, I DON'T CARE IF ITS WET OR NOT, THROW IT THE FUCK AWAY.

And with that, I promptly stepped out of the shower, gave hubby the look that made it slowly back out of the room and shut the door behind him. Opened the medicine chest and proceded to give myself that home facial I'd been meaning to do for the last 8 months.  Instead of crappy face I know have glowing face.

She slowly reached to pull the hair off her neck, it was steamin and she needed some relief.  He stared at the curve and was tempted to lick the sweat away.  The kids were in bed, the night was still young and it was hot.  The kind of hot that made you move slowly because you had to cut the air with each step.  The kind of hot that made the lightest clothes feel heavy. He went to her and took her down to the floor, he no longer cared about the heat, besides he like the smell of them together, steamin' it up.  She shivered, the slight breeze had evaporated the sweat off her nipples making them look as beautiful as when she was 18.  He stared down at her in a smoky haze, they were ready, and she said.

Nope, can't get action like this in fucking cold ass Buffalo, I'll take the heat baby!

Have you ever read an email and thought "HUH? Are we talking about the same thing?"  Well that was my reaction to the email by brother-in-laws (BIL) girlfriend.  In it we learned all about their passion for one another, how they adore each others kids, how much they are truly in love, and how excited they are to start a life together. Its an emai full of poetic confessions " we just seem to click, no we more than click, we seem to complete each other". I read it and think - you click with my BIL - but didn't you cheat on him 8 months ago and declare your love to his friend? Did you just recently complete each other? How exactly does this work?

Normally an email like this would have me excited - they are in LOVE - problem is, I've never heard him talk this way about her.  Not even close.  Heck, they've been together for over a year and we haven't met her, no one in the family has.  Does she have a hump?  Woudln't you want the your family to meet the love of your life? So where's the truth?   Hubby talked to him last night but of course we have to act like we don't know all the sordld details because we're bcc'd on much of this.  Still there were no passionate claims of love and damn the family, this girl is mine! 

I've decided the only thing we can do is be supportive, say good for you BIL, I got your back! If you want this, go for it, and if others don't like it I'll tell 'em to fuck off.  This of course has one caveat - children, but other than that, I'm cool with whatever comes of this. Hubby i worried he is going to get sca-rewed royally, but hey, BIL is in his 30s if he can't figure stuff like this out by now, there is no hope for him anyway.  I am of the belief that she's been more of a mistress than a future wife, but who knows, maybe he's scared to be in love and she's not.  Maybe she'll help him resolve some of the long standing issues he's had, maybe they really do fill a void in each other and can be a great couple that grows old together.

Or maybe she just sucks good cock and he can't say no.  Either way, I'm going to say go for it.  3 weeks till hubby heads out to see the drama first hand.  Will Hubby meet her?  Will the Aunts reconcile with her?  Will the emails stop?  I secretly hope not, I need a good summer drama, and of course, I promise to share all the good stuff with you.

I know I complain mightily about the winters in this part of the world,
but honestly, it's so much easier to put more clothes ON.  To sink down
into a hot bathtub.  To slip under a down comforter and cuddle around
the warm body next to you.  To wrap cold hands around a mug of hot
chocolate and breathe in its heady fragrance.

In contrast, when you're too hot, there's nothing you can do.  No more
clothes you can take off.  No way to get cool unless you're near some
water in a bathing suit.  Instead of desiring more human contact, you
find yourself pushing it away because you don't want extra heat anywhere
near you.  And instead of luscious hot chocolate with those fabulous
mini-marshmallows, you're guzzling glass after glass of water, which
just means you have to pee a lot more and frankly, who's got time for that?

No thanks.

Don't get me wrong, heat is inherently sexy.  There's nothing real
desirable about mittens, scarves and a down parka, but when the
temperatures go up, the skirts get shorter, the tops get tighter there's
all that extra skin exposed... it's a veritable moveable feast for the
eyes.  Not to mention the salty taste of sweat of someone's skin as you
kiss the back of their neck, causing goose bumps to rise... well, there
aren't many sensations like it.

But today , I was standing there in what I swear was a
simulated version of HELL, sweat running down my back with no
opportunity to take off more clothes, no one remotely available to kiss
the back of my neck as I picked my hair up off it and leaned exhaustedly
back against the board, and I was like, those Buffalo winters aren't
looking too bad right about now.

One of the things I love about my hubby's family is that when they do drama, they go big.  And thankfully, this weekend, the In Laws decided to let loose and really let it fly.  Just as I was really getting axious about the weekend, my inalws went off the deep end and thankfully dragged me and my husband along for the ride.  I'm sure they would like it to do over again, but I loved the distraction. 

It all started on Thursday afternoon, while driving to my mothers, bracing for the big retirement weekend. Hubby's cell rings - it's his Aunt - Hubby's brother is headed to the hospital because his girlfriend is having a miscarriage.  WHAAAAAAA?  He knocked her up too? Geez, this guy wags his cock at a girl and she gets knocked up.  After the flash of anger that yet another women got knocked up and I still can't get pregnant passes, the questions start - isn't she on the pill?  What is he thinking - he just had a child 12 weeks ago!  A brief is she ok, and sympathy for that awful moment, and then back to  what was he thinking!  As we're chatting about it in the car, hubby's family has gotten the news and gone over the edge - never a group to keep opinions to them self, the Aunts decided to speak up and call the spade a spade, or in this case whore a whore.  So Hubby's bro got it with both barrels - they took turns, under the guise of calling to make sure she was ok, to call and tell him that he was screwin' up. That she was definitely trying to do this in purpose, that he was being used by her, and that they were sick of watching him make bad choices in his life!  He took it like a man.  Honestly, it was rough enough that I would have said fuck off but he took it. 

Unfortunately since he didn't hang up the phone after 6 or 8 of these calls, declare the family to be right and dump the girl on the spot, the family, specificaly his aunts decided the first tongue lashing wasn't enough.  Emails started flowing in to reinforce the message. This turned out to be a very bad idea Because.......

SHE SHARES HIS EMAIL ACCOUNT! 

No, the aunts didn't know it.  But, you know whats coming next right?  You couldn't get away with this moment in a movie - but it happened, She read the emails FIRST -  got a first hand account of  how everyone feels about her. They think shes a liar!  They think she's using him!  They think he's an idiot to be with her!  If they love each other, how come he hasn't introduced her to anyone!  She acts like a girl not a women!  She tricked him into getting pregnant!  He should find someone who treats him better!  Oh yeah, she read it all baby!

The moment was classic for us, its 10pm, we're at my moms dealing with my families retirement party drama, and the first call comes in.  I see hubby standing there with first a smile, then a frown, and then this expression of shock, horror and maybe smirk.  He hangs up and rushes me upstairs - They did what?  she read what?  Oh my, its sad, its funny, its not my family!!!!!

Once the cat was out of the bag, things started happening in rapid fire - we would be doing stuff with my family, hubbys phone would ring, he'd rush off and then come back with varrying looks of horror and shock.  He'd then wait for a moment to grab me alone and share the news.   Hubby's brother was at work and just knew she was packing up her shit and leaving him right then and there - Aunts were calling to say it was more about him than her - everyone was  freaking out because the truth has been laid bare.  By Sunday we thought it had calmed down but then the final call - she has written an email back, a "response" to the Aunts. 

So who knows whats going to happen today?  I am getting the email forwarded to me today and I sadly admit, its what I can't wait to read it.  I love my hubby's family for its over the top drama, its always jaw dropping behavior. It kept me distracted for most the weekend - whenever I was getting irritated, I would make hubby call someone to get the latest scoop.  The best part is hubby is going out to see everyone in 3 weeks.  Will he help resolve the issues?  Will he finally meet the mysterious almost pregnant girl?  Stay tuned for the next installment of Inlaws gone wild!

This weekend was a big one for my Mom - she retired after 35 years of teaching.  To celebrate the momentous occasion, the idea of a party was hatched and so began 3 months of arguing and bickering with my brother.  The weekend is chauked full of too many tidbits to do in one post and I'm still processing some of the conversations and events.  Still the good news is that the family survived intact.  The big blow out was avoided, the party was a success, and my SIL has solidified herself as being truly selfish.  The good news for me is she has dragged him down with her so I have now reassumed, after 20 long years, the numero uno position of best child.  I hated losing it to him so many years ago - mommas boy that he was, and lord knows I fought it for years, but now this weekend,  the doting, loving daughter that I have become has pushed be back into the top spot.  Bottom line, Mom had a great party, she is none the wiser for the arguments that raged behind the scenes and we all left tired but fulfilled at doing such a cool thing for a great teacher.

I am not athletic, I never have been, never even close.  I was always the kid that played right field, batted toward the end of the line up, was asked to be the goalie, you know the type - smart girl, but she can't run to save her life, and on top of that she's clumsy, and awkward.  For years I've know it, I am pathetic.

I have to be careful now not impose all of my history on my kids -  to make sure they live their own destiny and not one that I've laid out to ensure they don't get trapped in my past - the feelings of sadness at being a backup, the sense of fear standing at the plate just knowing you were going to screw up.  Hating to play.  So a gold star for me - I've figured out that I can't warp them too much to resolve my own past,  Now I'm moving past that to think about my own history - I'm realizing that what I carry in my memories may not be what really happened, and that what I believe about myself may not be true - just a slight turn in circumstances, and how I think about myself could have been entirely different.

OK, yes, I am clumsy - I do trip and fall when nothing is there, and I am certainly not the fastest runner.  But that doesn't mean that I had to be unsuccessful athletically.  I think back now and realize no one really encouraged me. I was tracked - reader, artist, thinker - I couldn't be both.  In all my years, I don't ever remember anyone working with me to help me improve, to encourage me, to recognize that sucking upset me - I'm competitive in a piano competition, why wouldn't I want to be competitive on the field?  I hated sucking; I hated myself. I don't blame anyone, my parents were busy, they were working, I was lucky they could afford to sign me up for stuff, I get it.  But I can't help wonder how my life could have been different if someone, anyone, a coach, my parents, someone would have said - I believe in you - you can be great.

I know that about myself now - how positive reinforcement gets me going - praise me and encourage me and I'll go to the moon for you. I'll work harder, try harder and my heart will fill with joy when your pleased.  Make me feel in adequate and I shrink, get worse, don't try.  I'm not alone in this phenomenon, but how many parents and coaches realize this?  Thankfully my son will never have to worry about this when it comes to sports.  He's gifted like his Dad.  This year in T-ball I already saw it happen - some kids got outfield, Little B always got to play first.  He got lots of positive reinforcement, lots of praise, I could tell he was proud. I was relived. 

Did I learn some good lessons, hey we can't all play first, sometimes you are going to suck - you bet!  Do I fight harder than others for things I really want out of fear of losing it - probably.  But guess what, i also constantly struggle with self esteem, feeling inadequate, worried about not getting picked.  When little B finally tries something he's not good at, I'm going to be there to pump him up, to make him believe, to keep his confidence strong. So little man is off the worry list of having a bad sports life list and now I've only got little miss to stew over.  She already falls down a lot, and sadly, I think she runs like me, but she can also shake her booty better than Shakira.  So maybe its not sports for her, maybe its dance class - never did try that.  Who knows, I may never have been able to be Lisa Leslie because I was supposed to be J Lo.

Well its almost here, the big weekend of Moms retirement party.  I've made peace with my brothers selfish ways by deciding to just accept him for who he is, and I've gotten tremendous help from Hubby with last minute phone calls and errands, so everything should go smoothly right?  I'm still worried that its  going to be hectic, not fun for her or the rest of the family. I have regrets that wash over me like waves for ever offering to do this - our family just isn't funcational enough to pull this off smoothly.  At the event it will be fine, we'll all have on our happy faces, but it will be masking some major blow up that will have occured earlier in the night.  I hope I'm not self fullfiling prophesy, I'll just have to stay on the high road and bitch to Hubby so I don't let it show to others.  All I can say is that I have better moved back to numero uno child position.

In the next 3 weeks I will finish my sons T-ball season, throw my mother a retirement party in another city, play host to a cousin for a mini bridal-shower at my house AND pack and move my entire family 20 miles away from where I live now.  Oh yeah, and work, and buy groceries and do laundry, and have sex with my husband, and try to get pregnant, and put the kids to bed - clean, and keep up with friends, and change my address a million thousand places, and take care of the poor dogs ear infection, and get my cars brakes fixed, and buy my daughter some new underpants, and, and, and, and, and, and.  I now have sub lists within my lists, I have more timetables and schedules than Amtrak, and on top of it all I'm not sleeping right.

So I am multi-tasking to the hilt - assigning out as much work as possible to hubby and resigning myself to the fact that it just all wont' get done. I think if I didn't spend my corporate life managing projects it would be easier; I would be more naive, less skilled at seeing the train wreck that's coming.  It's those skills that are making it even possible for me to tackle the work, to create the lists, to see the dependencies, to assign alternate resources and load balance them, but it also brings with it the curse of knowing just how much is possible.

Those of you with any sense are thinking right now - but Amy, you've been crankin' out posts like a mad women -no?  Yes I am, but I realized the last time I took a break when life got hectic and I stopped writing that, I not only missed it, I felt worse; instead of unloading on you, dear reader, I took it out on the people around me - and I'd rather yell at you than the kids - so there!  Plus,(excuse #2) now that I can post via email, I can sit and crank these out in 10 minutes flat as long as I skimp on editing and grammar and punc'tation.  So damn you for noticing and thank you very much for bearing the burden of my over-stressed freaked out life. 

Now fuck off, I've got things to do.

If you are responsible for managing invoices or billing, especially with the federal government, you must have the following - stamp for date received -a binder with a copy of everything you've submitted, and a tracking sheet in the front of that binder that contains: date received by your company, invoice #, invoice amount, date you hand it to the govie finance group, and date you receive the email from the task monitor saying the invoice is approved.  One would think with the millions of dollars both organizations have spent on their ERP systems, scanning interfaces and process improvement teams, a simple piece of paper that you fill out in log form - like they did in olden times when IBM Selectric were the rage - wouldn't be necessary.  WRONG.  As it turns out, this very simple piece of paper with handwritten comments, saves my ass at least once a month.  Had to pull it out today to stem the flow of stupid decisions -  whipped off a few emails quoting dates and amounts, and sure enough - whoops - Amy you are right.

Now, how many people DON'T have this, who just sit there, befuddled and thinking, I know I handed that in!  Then, they get a new invoice generated, submit it again, and 6 months later both have been paid and now there's an investigation for over-charging on the contract.  You just have to assume everyone else is going to fuck it up, and if you don't keep track of it from the very beginning to the very end, no one else will - they won't do their jobs correctly, they will lose some piece of information, and if you don't save them from themselves, all will go to hell.  Today I stepped back from the brink of said hell and I can't help but gloat.  I was made for this shit.

I read last night about a women who has decided to be a sex slave - to her husband! She decided that she was tired of vanilla sex, that she wanted something more exciting, and that she wanted to be submissive, to be dominated.  After reading several of her posts, I got the feeling that while they have their ups and downs like any marriage does, they seem to be doing well as a couple (no swinging, no cheating) and their sex life has improved dramatically.

Well of course!  If you tell a guy that if he has the power to command sex, guess what, he'll command it and often.  I know in my house, if could no longer tell him no, and am no longer in charge of saying when, then yes, we would have more sex.  What I couldn't figure out was when they weren't under the sheets, who held the power in the marriage?  Does she spend most of her day bossing him around, telling him what to do, running the house, etc. but then turns submissive when he says suck it?

So you have to know where this is going (sorry Buffallo friend if I'm creeping you out) ---- I'm the dominate role in our house, could I be bossed in the bedroom?  Could I put myself in such a weak position as to never have control, to totally be submissive?  When I think about it, it seems almost like a releif, but then I worry, what if really am not in the mood?  Or, does the relationship change enough, that just like I can boss him into running to the store when he's not in the mood, he could boss me into a blow job? Thinking about it definately turns me on, and I would like more excitement, after 9 years of marriage we can knock it out in 5 mintues flat.  I do miss my wild sexual self of my youth and wonder is she gone, is like a well that runs dry, or is she lying dormant somewhere buried under responsibility, motherhood, and wifedom.  What if he commanded that she come out?

Still, I don't know how to do it right - he can't really command me when the kids are around can he?  Can you imagine - honey go in there and get naked and wait for me while I finish feeding the kids.  I mean really, how does one be the least bit diviant with kids in the picture? Mom - do you want to be a policeman?  No.  Then why are their handcuffs in your drawer?  Maybe someday, when the kids are older, I'll bring it up - of course by then, it will be yes master, oh it hurts, it hurts so bad..... to sit on my tired old knees while I wait for the viagra to kick in."

New guy started this week at work - he's supposed to help with business operations, forecasting budgets, etc.  I'm excited to hear this because I am on the ball with this sort of thing and glad to see the company finally realize this is important. Until I talked to him today - just a clue, when you conversation with a new person is peppered with uhs and huhs, odds are, he's not going to make you say WOW.

Uh hello, Amy, this is BOG (business operations guy).  Me - Hi, glad to finally talk to you.  BOG:  Um, I'm looking at your sub contractor invocies and a lot of them are late.  And he says this is that, I barely have a pulse, totally not-engaged sort of way.

Now I'm annoyed.  First, the obvious monotoned uh and huh conversation, second because my invoices from the sub are NOT late, they are totally ok - hello it's the 6th of June, and I have May's invoices in front of me - 6 days after the end of the month, 3 business days after the end of the month.  This is really good if not great!

Explain the issues for why I'm not faxing them over today, realize that he totally doesn't understand what I'm talking about, work to quickly get off the phone and on to the real work of the day.  Resign myself to another dud - I mean who interviews these people?  What's the criteria?  Looking for someone with a pulse who can successfully occupy this chair? Who has mastery of the english language, specifically terms such as ummmm, huh and uh? Please.

Good news, I am still on the ball with my operations, budgets, forecasts and have a good handle on what is and what will be.  Bad news - anticipating lots of annoying emails and phone calls plus hours of trying to explain it to the BOG.  I know at some I will have to challenge myself not to become saracastic and start paroting back just because I'm annoyed - Um BOG, hmmm, uhh I don't know why the ummm invoices are ummm late.  Huh.

How long is too long to be angry with a family member?  I want to be angry for an extended period of time - say until they stop - because its not one incident, its a series of incidents.  Is it worth being angry if nothing is going to change, if the person isn't going to alter their behavior?  If it were a friend they would be kicked to the curb.  Hasta.  But, it's not, its family.  I have to take the higher ground, not hold the grudge, just accept them for who they are.  I'm habitually late - they're habitually selfish.  Get over it.  I wonder when it won't piss me off.

... New York City You're an energetic, ambitious woman. And only NYC is fast enough for you. Maybe you'll set yourself up with a killer career Or simply take in all the city has to offer What City Do You Belong in? Take This Quiz :-)

On the way to our new house we drive by a store called "Choice Books".  It's up on a hill and seems to have the light of god shinning on it.  It's large store with a big sign with a cross on it out front.  Yes, of course, it's a chrisitian book store and it  has over 7000 titles to help guide your Christian path. 

One day last week, we were driving by it, and I noticed the commercial zoning, For Sale sign across the street from the godly house.  I turned to Hubby and said - This place is perfect for a porn shop.  A really dirty one with lots of devices and smut, you know the kind that even makes us uncomfortable.

Now, whenever we drive by, one of us has to say "perfect spot for a porn shop".  Would it be wrong to look into it?  Just the protesting would give me joy for years.

Dearest Brother, you have all the free time in the world and yet I find myself doing all the work for Moms party and then you have the nerve to freakin tell me that a $30 lei seems to expensive and to try and find another one that costs less.  I don't know what pisses me off more, the fact that your too fucking cheap to spend $30 bucks on your Mom, the fact that your ignorant of how much live flowers cost so you look like an ass because you pretend to know what you're talking about when you don't, or the fact that you have yet to offer to lift a fucking finger to help but instead continue to ask me whats being done when. 

I will not even stoop to engage in a whose busier contest because there is no fucking contest, I am already the winner.  Now get up off your self-righteous ass and get busy finding a Lei, it's yours to do, hope you don't stress out too much with your one fucking task.  And don't be a dick and hand it off to your wife.

My brother in-law is the proud father of a baby girl.  She has been alive for exactly 6 weeks 3 days, he has seen her ZERO times.  The mother is making it very hard on him. She's a bitch, she's refusing to talk to him,  she's telling him to walk away, and she'll absolve him of any responsibility, she says it will be better for everyone.

IT WILL NOT BE BETTER FOR THAT LITTLE GIRL.

Trust me when I tell you that years of fighting with her mother will reap significantly less damage than disappearing.

Trust me.

Don't make me hate you, I like you, I love you, I want to be able to look at you without wanting to vomit.  I can forgive you anything but this.

Don't give up up that little girl, she needs her Daddy.

Its been many weeks since I've put something up here.  Not because the last posting was so profound I couldn't go on, but rather I got paranoid about my office noting my machine time spent on blogger.com.  Simply, I didn't want to get busted by the man.

A normal person would simply shift their writing to a time when they are NOT as work - I unfortunately have none of that kind of time to spare.  Instead I am going to test the email posting.  This gives me flexibility to write while in traffic, at the office, or even when I'm have a particularly rough day and I've locked myself in the bathroom for a few moments of peace and quiet.

This is post is both to say hi and a test.... fingers crossed.