My favorite is.....neither of you.

I really don't agree with people who say they don't have a favorite child. I always like one more than the other.

Last night we went to dinner to Ruth's Chris for my dad's 65th birthday.  It was my parents, Todd, my grandmother, and Scott, the girls and I. We were seated at a round table in the middle of the room with smaller tables surrounding us. Great. My parents and grandmother got there first so they were already seated, and there was a high chair for Olivia. The way everyone positioned themselves at the table forced me to sit between my grandmother and Olivia, with Emma on the other side of Olivia. Good freaking god. Trying to keep Olivia quiet and busy was a job all in its own. However, my grandmother kept saying in her loudest voice that she couldn't see the menu...so I was subjected to helping her. As well as, entertain Olivia, figure out what Emma will eat, and what myself, the vegetarian, will eat at the steakhouse chain whose menu is not the same as it is online.

So I'm helping Bonnie figure out what she wants to eat, and after she repeatedly yells that "Ooh...that's expensive!" finally I decide she is getting the stuffed chicken. I tell her that's what she's getting, it's only $20 and, frankly, she'll eat anything. Fine. She's done.

Or not. She keeps looking at the stupid menu and making comments about what she wasn't able to see 5 minutes ago.

"You're having the stuffed chicken remember?"
"Oh yeah, I know. I don't even like steak." Which is a lie.
"Do you want steak?"
"No...I'll have the chicken."
"Okay, close your menu and stop shouting."

Olivia, meanwhile, is a maniac. She is yelling, laughing very loudly, and demanding attention by everyone around her. Not in a terrible way...the people around us were (drunk) and amused by her. She is charming with her big dimples and happiness, unless you're her parent at a restaurant with stuffy people...except for the drunk ones.

So while I'm doing everything besides standing on my head to entertain her, Scott is across the table from me sitting next to his boyfriend (my brother) and they're both watching me. And doing nothing. I really want to flip both of them the finger, but my hands are tied at the moment.

We finally get dinner, and after we eat, Scott asks if I want him to take Olivia. Oh...no....this is great...I'm having SUCH a lovely time....why would you ever think that? Come closer so I can stab you with this fork without anyone seeing.

On the drive home I decide he can have Olivia and I'll take Emma.

And then today happened. And I really don't like any of them. Emma thinks she knows karate because the kid in her class told her he's a black belt and taught her how to fight. She starts off every spar by sticking her thumb in her mouth and then punching her fists together. And then the attack.

"Who taught you to do that?"
"Roger. He said that's what you do."
"I think Roger is lying to you."
"No, he's a black belt."
"I think he's a nothing belt."

I told her if she attacks me one more time I'm going to punch her in the face. Inappropriate, I know. I know because now she keeps threatening to punch me in the vagina.

Peanut M&M's

This week I have convinced myself that I have cancer. I'm not sure which kind yet, but I'm thinking maybe cervical or colon. Of course, my throat hurts so it could be throat.

The main symptom that convinced me of this is that my belly button has taken on a change. It looks and feels a little "fatty". At first, I blamed my OB as I thought he may have screwed up my belly button after my C-section with Olivia. I don't know what one has to do with the other, but it only makes sense.  Unless, of course, it's the c-word.

I have gone through my treatment options, and have planned my course of action. I believe that I will probably read Suzanne Somers' book, go up to Mayo and get an opinion there, then read Alicia Silverstone's book, and only eat a plant based diet. I tried eliminating sugar from my diet yesterday, and nearly finished off a bag of peanut M&M's. They really deserve the title "betcha can't eat just one."

I may eventually go to the doctor for an exam. I Googled "cancer doctor", and found out an oncologist is who I would see.

I am not making light of cancer. I only decided to blog about it because 1) it's my blog and I write about what I'm thinking about. 2) if I do have cancer, I would like to have documented my self diagnosis. And 3) if I don't have it, we will all have something to be happy about.

No flu shot for me, thanks.

Last week I got sick with the flu and was puking my brains out. It was painful, but a little part of my was excited about it. I don't get why people complain about getting sick.  It was like a forced cleanse, or diet, at least. While I was throwing up, I was actually thinking, "Imagine the weight I'm losing. My stomach is going to be so flat. Oh my God, I can't stand my face being so close to the toilet, I could never be bulimic."

And then, the next day I couldn't eat anything except drink Gatorade. I felt horrible, but I am pretty sure my stomach shrunk and I don't want to eat as much as I did before. People should be thankful when they're sick and getting rid of all that shit you ate. And when you see it coming back up and out, you see what it's actually like in your body, and for me, it made me not want to eat. Like ice cream. Have you ever thrown up ice cream? It's the most disgusting thing to ever throw up. I can go a year without ice cream if I throw it up once.

So to all of you who got sick and blamed me, you're welcome.

Say what?

I may need to get out more.

Lately, I've been finding myself lost in translation. Whether I'm in a conversation or reading, I find myself not understanding what is being said. I'm not so quick to blame myself, because many times I think people use way too many words to say what they're trying to say (that's right), and I find myself losing interest, zoning out, or wishing really hard for what sounds like a period coming at the end of a sentence.

It also depends on the topic of conversation. If I already know how I feel about something, and someone else feels differently, I am not interested in discussing it with them. Not very open minded, I know.



This post is a perfect example. When I was thinking about my state of confusion as of late, I thought it might be good to write about it. But I've actually lost interest in what I'm writing.I'm not even interested in what I have to say now.


Hmm. Now what am I going to do.

Budget update

It's Thursday, and I still have almost all of my money! I can't believe it. Although I have spent almost all of the Target/grocery money.  And I found an extra $15. On Tuesday, I dropped off my jeans to be altered so I have to pay for that today, which will cut my money in half. I also had to decide to wait to get my other pants altered. I would have spent nearly my whole budget just at the tailor!

I'm doing surprisingly well, but it stresses me out. This budget kind of puts me in a bad mood. Yesterday, Scott was questioning me about the grocery money. He apparently doesn't trust me and thinks I'm going to try to STEAL from the grocery envelope. He wants to see receipts. I want to tell him to F off.

So guess what. A few days ago I lied to him about something. As soon as I said it, I was laughing, but he thought I was laughing about something else. I couldn't wait for the moment to tell him the truth just to see the look on his face. I thought I would tell him the next day, but I was getting so much enjoyment out of it.  So this morning he called and he was being super obnoxious again and laughing at my expense (and at his own jokes, which were totally not funny). The timing couldn't have been more perfect and I decided to tell him about my lie.

He hung up on me. While I was laughing.

I may not be able to manage money, but I will always get the last laugh.

Mo' money, no problem.

A few months ago, my friend mentioned she and her husband were starting a budget. They get cash out for the week (or 2 weeks), and only allow themselves to use that in place of using their debit cards. This is a great idea, I thought, but I would never do it. Using my debit card grants me unlimited spending without the guilt of consciously knowing what I'm spending and on what.  All I have to do is look online, see my balance, and know if I can continue my pursuit of happiness.

Whenever I say I would never do something, I always end up doing it. It's like I like doing the opposite of what I say.

Scott has been bugging me for months to do a budget. I am not a budget kind of girl. Obviously, I put it off, but then I was listening to the tv and heard something about mint.com regarding budgets. I decided to check it out. All I had to do was give them my bank information and, based on the transactions, they put my spending into a pie graph. Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow. I can never let Scott see this. The biggest pie in my graph was shopping. To be fair, a lot of this was on clothes for the girls. Emma's legs are already almost longer than mine, and she can't go walking around with her pants hitting the tops of her ankles.

I decided maybe I would give the budget a try (and never go back to mint.com ever again). So I typed up a budget in excel and was amazed at how much money we should have after all the bills are paid. Hmm.

I enjoy a challenge. I can do the cash thing. Or try it, at least. It might be fun.

We just started yesterday. We have an envelope of cash for groceries and Target (that's gonna hurt. I'm not gonna lie), an envelope for family entertainment (dining out, movies, etc), and we each get $50 for our own expenses, which isn't really fair because Scott never spends money.

I actually have all my money still. I get $50 for the week for my own personal spending, which kind of stinks since I go to Zumba twice a week so that leaves me with $40, and sometimes I go Saturday mornings, but now I have to decide between a work out or $5. That $5 will also get a Starbucks, which actually I HAVE been known to try to convince Katie to drive past Zumba and go to Starbucks instead.

So this is my point. This money I have is like gold to me. I don't want to part with it. I refuse to spend it senselessly. I need to use it wisely, and I may even have extra to carry over into next week. I really wanted to get a pedicure this week, plus, I need some jeans hemmed.  I'm already wishing we would have postponed the budget. And Scott is SUPER annoying about it. He's offering me ways to earn money by...you know. I'm not that desperate. Yet. As I've said before though, I'm above nothing. 

A girl's gotta eat.

Your kid may be an honor student, but mine is a fashion guru at 5.

Today is the first day back to school after 2 weeks off. I was anticipating it to be one of the worst days of the year. Turns out, it may have just been one of the best. 

Emma is an absolute BEAR in the morning. I actually find myself holding my breathe when I'm trying to wake her up. After two weeks of sleeping in, I knew she would be especially grouchy this morning. The alarm went off at 6:10 (I couldn't decide between 6 and 6:15 and we all know that every minute counts when it's still dark outside). I was just about to turn over and tell Scott to get up and turn the alarm off when I realized that, ugh, it was mine after all, and Scott was long gone, probably already at work.

As I'm getting Emma ready for school, she is surprisingly pleasant and all is going well. She wears a uniform so getting dressed is usually pretty easy on school days, and I had already prepped her for the pants she was going to have to wear since it's too cold to wear a skirt. Brown socks...fine. She was going to wear her brown mary janes, so all was good. Then, she decides she wants to wear her new Skechers gym shoes. Okay, great, let's put those on. So we put them on and I'm thinking, "Ugh, I would never wear brown socks with gym shoes, but she's 5 and no one will probably even see them."

Then, Emma says, "Wait. Do these even look cute? With my brown socks? Oh, I don't think it looks cute with my brown socks."

I smiled with absolute pride and we changed her socks. School has taught her to read and spell this year, but I really don't think anything can top this.