Mr. Tonks and I are going on a date this weekend. What are we doing, you ask? I dunno. No, really, no clue. Dinner? Movie? ‘Kay. But we kind of want to break from the norm and do something different. We’re just too lame to know what, exactly, that may be. Thoughts on a KC date not involving a movie?

I’m really disappointed in Obama. I think of how excited we were this time last year and compare it to the frustration I feel now and it really bums me out.

Specifically boys and pee are what have me all kinds of cranky.

SG went upstairs to use the bathroom this afternoon and called to me for help. “I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said, “I didn’t mean to.” There was a puddle- literally a puddle- of pee on the floor. A quick glance told me she was most certainly not responsible for the mess. Since Mr. Tonks and I don’t use that bathroom it was pretty clear that JP was to blame. He fessed up, of course, but what nearly put me through the roof was that the mess had been there since 5:30 this morning. SERIOUSLY KID???

I made him (he’s home sick) clean up the mess and then wipe the toilet, floor and cabinet with the Clorox bleach spray that’s safe to use around food and such. He’s banned from using that bathroom in any capacity for a week. I’ve put myself in time-out so I don’t throttle him. We’re going to have the How To Pee Properly talk and the If You Make a Mistake You’ll Be In Less Trouble If You Tell Me Right Away talk once I’m calm.

Little boys and toilets and pee just make me want to scream. How hard is it to hold your penis, stand still for 10 seconds and concentrate on the task at hand? I swear, if I could have a solid concrete floor with a drain in the middle so I could just hose the damn bathroom down my life would be so much easier (and less disgusting).

UGH!

What’s the best Christmas gift you’ve given that cost $20 or less? What’s the best gift you’ve received that cost $20 or less?

And, no, gift cards and cash do not count.

I’m pissed. Wait, no, I’m not pissed- what’s more than pissed? Irate? Livid? Murderous rage? Fuck and yes I’m all of those.

Yesterday an adult made fun of and laughed at my 4-year old daughter. Let me repeat: an ADULT TEASED AND LAUGHED AT MY CHILD. Why? Because her hair is still pink from Halloween. It’s quite a bit lighter than it was, and you can finally see hints of her natural color, but the overall effect is an odd pink hue. Generally people love her hair, we often get random “that’s so cute!” or “she’s adorable!” comments and sometimes it takes me a second to realize that they’re talking about her hair because I’ve gotten so used to the color. But yesterday a Mean Middle Aged Bitch not only felt compelled, but somehow entitled to make fun of it.

SG was out with my mom and the woman behind them in line made a few derogatory comments about my daughter’s hair. Then she started laughing and said, “I’m sorry! I just can’t help myself!” My mom tried to ignore her and didn’t say anything which I think was the total wrong way to handle it. “You said nothing?” I asked her in disbelief? “NOTHING???” My mom then said something about being a bigger person, not wanting to cause a scene in front of SG, etc. I’m not exactly sure what all her reasonings were because there were little red spots blinking in front of my eyes and the sound of rage flooded my ears. At the very least my mom could’ve said, “YO, BITCH. IF YOU CAN’T SAY ANYTHING NICE THEN SHUT YOUR FUCKING TRAP”. While she was telling me this, I mumbled incoherently about wanting to beat her face until her butt felt it and that she should’ve been stoned with tacky glassware*. I can’t wait until karma comes back to bite that horrible, nasty bitch.

Who the hell does that? What kind of grown up asshole makes fun of a little kid? And maybe it was good that I wasn’t there because I’m pretty sure we don’t have enough cash for bail on an assault charge.

*The Mean Middle Aged Bitch, not my mom. Although I kind of want to smack her around a little for her lack of action.

A local church has the following sign on its lawn:

HE IS COMING

BUILD A BIRDHOUSE

DECEMBER 12 1 PM

It makes me giggle every time I drive past. Who knew that to survive the Rapture one would need to have a birdhouse ready?

My husband hijacked my FB account last night. Well, actually, he threatened to hijack my FB account and I sort of encouraged him to do it. I figured his status updates would be infinitely more entertaining than anything I could come up with. Lo, he did not disappoint…

10:05 p.m.: OMG Who thought playing xmas tunes in public crappers was a good call??!! Freakin’ Satan, that’s who. I like bikes and paper and beer and words like “trepidation”. That’s whatz on my mindz, facebook!! That and cheeses. Victor says hi. Suck it spell check, you can straight up go to h.e. double-hockey-whatev world and listen to streisand’s jingle bells. Boba Fett died in the pit of carkoon yall… FYI.

10:20 p.m.: Mr. Brian Busby* is the Chris to my Kringle.

11:00 p.m.: When hiking through the hinterlands, always carry a compass, a dvd copy of “Glory Cooking w/ Madden, ep1: Triumph over Parsnips,” and one large bear.

11:10 p.m.: there’s a llama…here’s a llama…fuzzy llama…funny llama…llama llama, DUCK

11:25 p.m.: I’m throwin my hat in the ring for the KU football coaching job. I will provide snacks for each meeting/game! My brother Jeppers says my oboe-playing makes him cry inside. Jeppers ate a live ostrich once. I do puppet shows!

*The weatherman on Channel 9.

At the end of December we’re headed to Oklahoma City to visit both sides of Mr. Tonks’ family. I love my father-in-law’s family (okay, his brother is weird but there’s always one). We haven’t seen them in two years and I’m genuinely looking forward to spending time with Mr. Tonks’ great-aunt. My mother-in-law’s side of the family, OTOH, I’m not so excited about because it includes the Crazy Louisiana Evangelicals branch (just skip to the very last paragraph if you’re so inclined to go back). Oh sweet Pete I really don’t want to see them.

These people have never been terribly kind to me. They never make any effort to speak to me very much, I was treated like a pariah from the second I was introduced to the family and the Crazy Evangelical Aunt’s reaction to my pregnancy last fall was, quite frankly, unforgivable (not that she’s bothered to apologize- Jesus loves her so she’s above such things) and something I just can’t (won’t?) get over.

We talked about not going but, again, we want to see my FIL’s side of the family. Plus, this is important to my MIL and Mr. Tonks’ parents have helped us a lot in the last few months so I feel like we kind of owe it to them to at least play nice. But that’s all I’m willing to do. I’d love to really let her have it because, damn, this woman is such a bitch. As awful as it sounds, I’d really rather enjoy making her cry. I won’t, though. I want to (oh how I want to) but I won’t. I’m a bigger person than that (at least I’m going to pretend to be).

We’re having a party tonight. It started as a gathering of Mr. Tonks’ friends, a no big deal kind of thing. It’s evolved into a full-blown party with a guest list of 16 people in my little house. We’ve never had that many adults here at once, I hope everyone fits.

Apropos of nothing, please enjoy this video (via Topless Robot) that makes me cry tears of glee every time I watch it. It’s worth waiting for the end to see the Ewok hump Al Roker’s leg.

I haven’t written about the baby lately mostly because everything I have to say about him is gooshy and much nicer and sweeter than what you’ve come to expect from me. I’ve got an image to maintain, yo. Having said that, I’m crazy about XC. I’m totally and completely gobsmacked by how much fun I’m having with him. A year ago I was freaking out and dreading a new baby. Good grief! What an idiot I was.

The very best part of my day is walking into his room when he wakes-up from a nap. His face is all frumpy with sleepy eyes and creases from where he’s slept on his blankie. Lately he stands towards the foot of his crib, humming and gnawing on the side rail and- this is the best part- when I walk in the door, he breaks into a grin that takes up his whole face. Sometimes he bounces a little or slaps the side of the crib out of utter excitement. I’m a hero just for coming through the door.

Part of the reason I think I’m so gaga about XC is because I don’t have a lot of fond memories of SG’s infancy- terrible, but true- and even though she hasn’t been a baby for almost 5 (!!!) years, I remember vividly that the experience was fairly miserable. XC is just so easygoing and happy that the parenting experience is just naturally a happy one. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

See? I warned you. This post was drenched in drooly saccharine.