2 bottles of wine and some blood - to go please...

What a fucking Saturday we had. Started out great. Drank some coffee, enjoyed the weather, and took to long to get off the couch, but then we were ready to roll. We're having Thanksgiving at our house this year. Not too excited, but what do ya do? We decided we needed to "spruce" up the house (sine we've lived in it almost 4 years and have done NOTHING to it).

The plan: World Market, Target, and shrimp enchilada dinner. Went to World Market. Not a good place to bring two kids. Their carts are too small for two kids to fit into and their aisles are too small for the double stroller. I ran after Oliver for about 15 minutes screaming, "don't touch that, don't touch that, don't touch that"! Then he knocked over a piles of dog bones. Whew! Easy clean up. Wishful thinking on my part. He threw a fit and we had the "you have two choices talk". Two simple choices: go to the car or stay and listen to mommy and daddy. He decided to stay and listen. We thought we were smart cause we reasoned with a toddler.

Next thing I know, and it all happened so fast, but in slow motion as I watched. Oliver ran over to the wine section, grabbed one wine bottle...it dropped, then another came sliding out, it dropped, then another....crash - bang! Two bottles broke, wine was splattered, glass was broken into pieces, my foot was bleeding, my toe was throbbing, Lennon was smiling happily, Mike was trying to figure out who's kid just embarrassed his parents, and Oliver was silent. HOLY SHIT!

Mike quickly came to, grabbed Oliver and carried him to the car and I quickly ran over to the counter and paid for two $20 bottle of wine that I will NEVER drink. I got to the car and Mike asked, "are you still buying the bench"? Seriously? HELL NO!

Needless to say, we never made it to Target and we were too cranky to whip up shrimp enchiladas. Oliver spent the rest of the evening in his room and I have a Spongebob band aid healing my wounds.

Mr. President...

Michael always reminds me that Oliver was born the same year that the Astros went to the World Series. Not sure how historical that is, but if you're a sports fan I guess you get it. To me, that's like saying, "Oliver was born the same year we planted the day lilies in the garden". Hmm. Now we can say that Lennon was born the same year the USA elected their first African American President. Pretty cool, huh?

Obama's has a long and treacherous road ahead. I know things will have to get worse before they get better, but I'm happy to make this journey with Obama. I'm ready for change.

Happy Halloween...

Lennon's first Halloween was a success, except she was tired, cranky, and never got to trick-or-treat. At least we got a few photos of her in her costume (she was a Dalmatian). Oliver, on the other hand, hand too much fun (he was a Fireman who looked like Paddington Bear). He loved knocking on the doors, screaming "TRICK-OR-TREAT" and taking a big handful of candy. He even loved the haunted house some clever person set up. He wasn't even scared. Of course, we all know what too much chocolate does to a toddler...MELT DOWN! He had a few melt downs towards the end of the night and even kept sneaking candy as he was trailing up to bed. All in all, it was an OK evening. Hope you had a great one too.

and the next president is...

Don't forget to vote! Women...we fought our assess off to get our voices heard, so get your butt out there and vote! This is one of the most important elections of our time - VOTE, VOTE, VOTE!!!

PS. Go Obama!

hmm...

Bought $2 wine at Walmart and didn't taste so bad. Smelled a bit like pee, but didn't notice it after one glass.

random thoughts...

My brain works in weird ways. I'm an OCD-Neurotic-Bi Polar-Hippy Chick- Slightly ADHD-Irish chick. In a nutshell, I guess. Random thoughts today...

I was listening to my cheap ass washer bang away. No matter how big or little the load is, it shakes and bangs. So freaking annoying, especially when little Leni is asleep next door. The washer and dryer were $500 for both. We bought it from a newly wed couple who didn't need 2 washers and 2 dryers. Then it made me think about the couple who sold it to us. Within ONE year of marriage, they were divorced. I think it's sad. Only one year? Really? I've been with Micheal 15 years. I can't imagine only giving our relationship one year to work and survive. Relationships take time, effort, and care. We're a good team, but we're still working on our relationship. It's a hellava lot easier now than it was 15 years ago, but we still BOTH put 100% into our relationship. Michael drives me crazy sometimes, but he one hell of a guy. He puts up with me (and I'm a high maintenance chick), he's a SUPER dad, a loving person, my best friend, and can always make me laugh. I would never have known all the great things about him, if I had only given our relationship one year. Just waiting to see what the next 15 years bring.

really?

Maybe it's me, my age, or the fact that I'm a Mom, but SOME of the people I work with are so freaking lame and boring. Immature may even come to mind. Am I becoming an old fart? My Grandmother's hubby called them FOP's (fucking old people). I sit at lunch and all the gals have to talk about is Dancing with the Stars and The Hills. I WISH I had time to talk about crap TV, but I don't. I teach full time, pick up the kids from my Mom's, get home, start cooking and cleaning, feed the kids, prepare for the next day (cleaning bottles, preparing lunch, getting the kids clothes ready), give the kids a bath, get myself ready for the next day, play with Oliver for a bit, put the kids in bed, and then I can finally relax. By then, it's 9PM. I'm VERY thankful for the 9PM shows on Bravo and FX (Sunny rocks)! I'm thankful for $2 wine from Walmart. I'm thankful for a little sleep. And all of this is with a hubby who helps me equally.

I'm sick of hearing about crap TV. Who give a fucking flip about LC and Heidi. I'm interested in talking about something with substance. The economy. Politics. Obama (he rocks). How my son missed the potty the other day, peed everywhere and said, "Mommy, made mess come check it out". My daughter teething and her new found interest in growling like a dog.

Guess I'm just becoming a FOP. Really?