The screaming fight over the use of the new PS3 (thanks Gramma) begins. If dawn can be considered 11pm when the 10 & 12 year old roll from bed bleary eyed and ready for a fight.
Once sweet 10 year old daughter rushes tv screen to change channel from Avatar episode #1,254 which 12 year old son SWEARS he has never seen. (I have personally seen it 2X) A screaming mimi follows. Note: Dad worked a 12 hour shift and is upstairs trying to sleep.
15 in Jan daughter has spent last three nights with various friends. (I wish she had invited me.)
With Jess Sis's help I create a list of legal punishments for pre-teen contingent. (For your enjoyment.)
- Shovel the driveway with a Tea Spoon.
- Spot clean the carpet WITH THEIR ELECTRIC TOOTHBRUSHES.
- Use new hand held back massager on face until lips don't work (theirs not mine) In attempt to foil future verbal assaults upon one another.
- Brush the dog's teeth with liver flavored doggy toothpaste.
- Put my new Ped Egg to good use by sloughing dead skin off of MY feet.
- Clean up Christmas Tree needles with teeth.
- Write "Who is my hero" essay about me.
- Locate and collect frozen dog turds in lawn. Child who collects most may concoct and perform poetry and/or dance in my honor.
Jittery caffeinated me takes dogs for poop/pee walk. Brody pup's leash snaps. One hour spent hiking around in woods and creek, while wearing pajamas (is there anything else?) DH's shoes, no socks, and DH's coat while trying to lure Brodylicious back to me. DH's dog snickers at me, reveling in the fact that she is better trained. (Photo taken before leash snapped.)
I seriously take into consideration the sudden inspiration to add Nyquil and/or Benadryl to the children's Ramen Noodles.
It is New Year's Eve. I have Kalua, I have Vodka, I have Milk. I write this piece of the blog, note the time and realize I'm only a few hours away from 2010, 3 days away from BACK TO SCHOOL, and a New Year's pizza away from Nirvana. Amen.
I just heard my son say "I looked in the van for the keys and all I found was a rotton apple. I threw it."
If I hadn't mixed anti-depressants with alchohol I would not share the following accidental picture:
Note the thick layer of dust. You may look at the dust but you may not write in it.
I just My husband came down to get his shirt out of the dryer. You know, that's the way you get wrinkles out of something that probably should be washed, but that you aren't going to wash... Anyhow, DH just yelled "Becky, the kids want to know how come you left these scratches on my chest." When I didn't say anything, DH yelled "Becky!" again. I'm not drunk enough to explain "wiggly blanket" to the kids. So I shout "you know Brody did that." To which DH, not so D at the moment, shouts, "Liar."
Oh, and I think I may have broken a pinkie promise. You know, the one I mentioned in an earlier blog where I swore I would let DH see any posts that mentioned him before I hit "publish".
Oops. Gotta Go. Wish me luck.