In which I mix children’s tv shows and cusswords.

Since I have a young child I’m fairly well versed in all the shows on PBS.  We don’t have cable or satellite because #1 I’m cheap and don’t see the value and #2 we are trying to save money and pay off debt so we can breed.

I let Emma watch no more than an hour of TV every day (not counting the movies we watch together) in the mornings after she’s gotten ready for school.

I’m pretty cool with MOST of the programs on PBS except for one program which I can’t stand.  Its called Caillou and its fucking BAD.  I LOATHE IT!  The main character is a little boy who clearly needs… I don’t know what he needs but I can’t stand him.  I’ve worked in daycares, volunteered with kids of all ages, babysat and I’ve never met a kid like that. It’s like the creators took every annoying quality a child can have and multiplied it by TEN.  And his voice…..Shudder….  I mean, I don’t think the kids parents even like him very much.  One of the few episodes I ever watched Caillou’s mom took him to work for the morning. Lunchtime came and then his dad came to get him.  She couldn’t even handle a full day with him.  I bet she was whispering into the phone “Come and get him! He’s so fucking annoying my coworkers are going to throw him down the elevator shaft!”  (But kudo’s to whomever had the dad be a SAHD, that totally rocks!)

I don’t know if I have a point other than the fact that Ya, PBS, BARNEY is better than CAILLOU!  FUCKING BARNEY!

Various

I’m tired.  TIRED.  And sick to death of wrangling with clients.  The days leading up to and the day of tax deadlines are always stressfull.  But WE SURVIVED!   I didn’t work out this morning, my warm bed and my warm husband were entirely too appealing.  But I don’t feel as good if I don’t work out so as soon as he gets home from working late (coworkers wife has H1N1 yeah! and there was much rejoicing) I’m headed off to the gym to sweat some of the stress from today away.

Emma’s school is offering free H1N1 vaccines starting Monday. YES PLEASE!  It’s the mist one, so she gets a second dose in two weeks.

Speaking of vaccines, I just realized my last tetanus shot was in 1985.  NINETEEN HUNDRED EIGHTY-FIVE!  I think I’d better get one before next summer!

I feel bad for Catherine de’ Medici, lady had kindof a shitty life.  Of course no one back then had an exactly GREAT life but man, it would SUCK to be blamed for not having an heir to the throne when your husband is too busy screwing his mistress to get the job done for you.

Seaweed is DELICIOUS.  I have to fight Emma for my fair share!

Brian has a soccer game tonight at 11:15.  Which SUCKS, cause that means we are gonna miss it.

Did you hear about balloon kid? OMG, I’m so happy he’s not dead, but OMG, he’s so grounded! Parenting is an odd combination of pleasure and pain and definitely there are days when the pain is SO MUCH MORE!

Thing that make me smile

http://www.picturesforsadchildren.com/

My sister in law’s www.babysites.com page.  I’m going to be an auntie in March again!

Tomorrow is Friday.  I am giving blood.

This is our weekend with Emma.  This makes us happy!

Corn maizes!

We are going for a train ride!  Emma will get to pick out her very own pumpkin from the pumpkin patch!  How awesome is that?

Things that make me happy.

THIS post, courtesy Dooce.  Thanks to her, I shall now address everyone as “My bitch”.

Sample:

Eventually, one night in total darkness, I arrived at the temple in Salt Lake City. I felt its facade and it was like a lightning bolt ran through my fingers, up and down my spine to my brain and my anus, filling me with the electricity of hope, something I’d never felt before. I sat on the steps until dawn came, and a man of the cloth arrived.

“Who are you?” he said.

“I’m a fucking believer, my bitch,” I said. Having grown up on the block, this was the only way I had ever heard people talk. I had no idea it was offensive. In a surge of faith that this man would not judge me, I took off my Stormtrooper mask to reveal my lack of a face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, scrunching his face in disgust. ”I don’t think we can accommadate you.”

I highly recomend reading it. Unless you don’t have a sense of humor,  in which case you may be excused.

Vanilla Lattes.

Pictures of PUPPIES.

On igoogle I have a pet turtle. I used to have two but I forgot about them and I think one died.

Remembering how my brother had this game with worms in it and the worms bombed shit and stuff.

Good afternoon, beautiful and terrifying spooklettes.

There is this website, it’s called Talk Like Warren Ellis and it insults you in the awesomest way.  You must go, enjoy and spread the awesome Britishness of it all… Apparently Warren Ellis is a British writer.  And he appears to be QUITE  awesome, judging by the greetings he gives on twitter.  I’m QUITE pleased!

Want another sample???

“Good night, space whores of the intertube.”

What my husband has to put up with

We go to a sporting goods store.

We go to the ammunition isle, cause we need bullets for the pistol.  There is no 9mm ammo in stock. Guess no target practice for me.

So I say “Sorry, honey, its all the gun toten freaks who are buying all the ammo cause Obama’s gonna take thier guns from them. ” (apparantly this gets some dirty looks from some of the freaks in the isle)

“But really Obama’s too busy trying to make sure they have health insurance for when they accidentally shoot themselves to actually take their guns from them.  So really, their guns are totally safe!”

Brian steers me out of the isle.  Because I have to say all of that in a southern accent.  REDNECK accent.

I ask him if he loves me, and he says yes.

“Its cause I’m Klassy!  Klassy with a K!.”

So then he says something to the effect that he’s glad he got out of there without being shot.  Poor guy can’t take me anywhere. Damn my overdeveloped sense of humor.

In which Brian learns a valuable lesson

A couple of weeks ago the boys were playing Axis and Allies until three in the morning.  Not a problem.  Except they were drinking.  Again, not a problem.  Except Brian said he’s be home by ONE and it was THREE when I woke up and his phone was dead and I didn’t know where he was.

He came home and didn’t quite understand why I was pissed. (Cause I was worried!?)  But he was suitably repentant and life moved on!

Last night we watched Amélie, a subtitled french film. ADORABLE.  If you like subtitles, which I do. Call me crazy.

Anyway, there comes a point in the movie where she’s supposed to meet up with her male interest and he’s late, and her brain goes a little crazy.

“-Nino’s late. For Amelie, there’s only two possible explanations

. He didn’t find the picture.

. He didn’t have time to piece it together

because repeat offenders took him hostage.

Chased by the police,

they managed to escape.

But he caused an accident.

When he recovered, he couldn’t remember anything.

A trucker gave him a ride

and believing that he is a fugitive, put him in a container to Istanbul.

There, he came across Afghan adventurers,

who took him with them to steal soviet missiles.

But their lorry exploded on a landmine in Tajikistan.

The only survivor, mountaineers helped him out,

and he became a mujaheddin fighter.”

“THIS IS WHAT MY BRAIN DOES!”  I exclaim to Brian!  “This is what I think when you are late!  My brain automatically takes something tiny and explodes it into something big.”

And now Brian knows how crazy I can truly be.  And he still loves me anyway! SO really the lesson learned is that I have a French brain or something.

I loved the movie! You should watch it!

True story

I just got carded buying peanuts.

(Okay, its from the smoke shop in the same complex as my work and I’m feeling shitty (no! not pregnant!) and peanuts sounded good and to be fair you have to be 18 to be in there and I’m pretty sure I look 18 and I bought a bottled water earlier and DIDN’T get carded for the water so WTF?)

Hand over the lemon bars and NO ONE WILL GET HURT!

Yes. I’m PMSing.  Make one wrong move and you may just DIE.

Send chocolate

Am PMSing. Send help. Send alcohol. Send someone to give me a back massage!

I NEED CHOCOLATE.

I think PMS proves intelligent design wrong.  Just my current theory.

Our house inspection is today.  I’m hoping everything looks good so we can move forward!