Low Expectations

Sometimes, I come to class thinking, "Man, tonight is going to be epic." I felt that way tonight. I woke up at 1630 hrs (I am normally getting ready by 1500), had to rush to get ready and print out my note cards for my team presentation that I forgot to practice. As I am rushing out the door, my mom and husband inform me that Little Bug got hurt at school today and one of her teachers was a total bitch about it. So I had to stay and get the whole story. That set me back 10 minuets and the line at Starbucks put me back another 15. By the time I got to school, I knew tonight had to be entertaining, because it always is when I am in no mood to write.

Wrong. Tonight is a snoozer. The last night of class always seems to disappoint me. Everyone has checked out. Usually, I can count on these people to be at their literary best when I am at my most tired, annoyed, rushed, etc., but tonight I am let down. Maybe if this was last week...le sigh. 

So fuck them. I'll be ranting about zee German.

Little Bug is in Pre-K as I am sure I have bragged about numerous times. The very first day, she made a BFF. We shall call her Julie. Julie and Little Bug were both born in Germany, at the same hospital no less. Her father is in the Army and her mom is German. She's a few months older than Little Bug, taller, and a brunette. She has a 7 or 8 year old sister that she is a carbon copy of. We will call her Jay. Little Bug and Julie are inseparable. They insist on holding hands pretty much all the time, they finish each other's sentences, and they laugh at everything like it's an inside joke. I'm very happy Little Bug has a BFF.

Julie's mom is a whole different story. N and Jim (the husband) have been married for some time. They met in Germany when he was stationed there the first time and while she was dating another American service member. I'm not judging, it'll be important later.

SN: One of the cops is sitting next to me biting his nails and popping his joints over and over. I want to beat him. His nail bits are scattered all over the desk. I may scream.

After a week or to of school, I invited N and Julie over to swim on a Sunday. I believe it was Labor day, and we also had over my gal Shannon and her awesome brood. I figured that if N and I didn't hit it off, at least I would have Shannon there. I don't want to take to long on the Labor Day fiasco, but the woman is a nut. She spent almost the entire day talking about our pool and how she wished they had put in a pool instead of turf, how "they" were in the Army, and a plethora of info about her oldest daughter Jay. She ignored Julie to the point that the little girl clung to me like I was her mom. I am not normally a kid person (unless it's my friend's kids) but I felt so bad for her. She was desperate for attention. And of course, Little Bug was so taken with the older sister. I know that's how little girls are, but I was on LB like a hawk making sure she paid attention to Julie instead.

Jim showed up and he was everything I expected. Loud, pompous, boisterous, typical southerner. Hubby and Shannon's hubby Rob got on great with him, but I couldn't believe how much he dominated the conversation. I thought I was loud...sheesh.

Despite being severely annoyed with N's obsession with materialistic things, I dismissed it as a cultural miscommunication. Despite having been in the US for sometime, her accent was still noticeable and there were just some things about her that screamed "GERMAN!" What bothered (bothers) me the most is her total disregard for Julie. The sun rises and sets with Jay, but Julie is often times ignored. They went to Jay's school's Fall Festival, but skipped Julie's because "Jay didn't want to go to something for little kids." They ordered Jay's school portrait but were not going to order Julie's until she "cried like a little baby about it." When Julie comes over for a play date, she can only stay an hour or two because it isn't fair to Jay. Yep, Jay, who is in school until 3, doesn't think it is far that while she is at school Julie is at our house playing with Little Bug. We wouldn't want to anger Jay.

The first time Julie came over for a play date, she said and did some things that really bugged me. She told Little Bug that LB had such a nice small tummy and that she (Julie) was fat and gross. Little Bug ran in my room to tell me this, and also that "Julie said she hates herself." I had to have LB repeat this like six or seven times. I couldn't believe that a five-year-old girl was even capable of thinking she was fat or hating herself. I had them both come in my room. They climbed up on the bed and we had a talk about self-worth. We talked about how you should always love yourself, no matter what. I don't even know if I handled it right (LB is not lacking in self-worth AT ALL), but her angst broke my heart.

I didn't bring it up to her mom. what would I have said? Your daughter has body image issues at 5? As a younger sister, I assumed she got most of this from her older sister, they're where we little sisters get most of our issues, but a nagging part of me wondered if N was partly or mostly responsible. She is constantly comparing Julie to Jay and Little Bug. "Oh look at Little Bug's outfit? See how pretty she is?", "Julie, why isn't your hair pretty like Little Bug's?", "Jay doesn't have dry skin like Julie", and much worse. Every time she opens her mouth out flows something critical about Julie, and Julie is always within ear shot.

When it was Julie's turn to host a play date, I ended up staying there as well. Not because I didn't want to leave Little Bug alone (though I didn't), but because Jim was also home and he insisted on giving me a tour of their house. The same house N was devastated about because they didn't have a nice pool like ours. The house is nice, really, but it isn't anything different from any other house in Sun City. Two-story, multiple car garage, open floor plan, up near the mountain and over-priced. They paid $225,000 for it using their VA loan and put nothing down. Not the route I would take, but they were sure proud. Then the tour started.

We started on the second floor with the kids playroom. It was full of toys (mostly Jay's), a big screen LCD TV, pottery barn furniture, and "super expensive carpet." I know how much everything cost in the room...because they told me. Jim kept nudging me and saying, "Guess how much that carpet cost. Just guess." I finally did and he LOL'd in my face and said, "Double that!" All for a kids play room.

I was whisked to Jay's room, also filled with the best furniture money can by. Crate and Barrel, Pottery Barn, Ethan Allen...all were present in Jay's room. I remarked that I loved the quilt set from Target, and N looked at me terrified. "You can tell it's from Target?!" she asked. I told her that I had looked at the same one for Little Bug and that though we did not get it, it was really cute. I'm sure she threw it out after and bought a high-end one. Julie's room was far less fancy. Also rocking a quilt set from Target (the owl one we got for Little Bug), N didn't put the same effort into coordinating this room as she did Jay's. Nothing on the wall (Jim said it's because he doesn't want nail holes in that room only), furniture matched but looked like it had been abused by someone before she got it...just a marked difference. She didn't even keep the door open that long, as if the room embarrassed her...like how she treats Julie.

Down the hall was Master Suite number 1. N sleeps in this one, complete with more Pottery Barn furniture, a balcony, Jacuzzi tub, walk-in closet and "just a wonderful view" of the side of a mountain. After they listed the prices of everything from the carpet (different and more expensive) to the wall sconces, we moved downstairs. Jim sleeps in Master Suite number 2. Lives is a better word. Like, I get sleeping in another room because your spouse snores, but they LIVE in separate rooms. This one was a man bedroom to the core, but decked out in leather and "rich mahogany." I swear to whomever you worship, he said that...and was NOT making an Anchorman reference.

Then came the kitchen, laundry room, backyard, living room and formal dining room. Without giving the same price list they gave me, I will tell you that anyone who spends that much money on minor, non-value adding improvements on their home is an idiot. But anyone who brags about it, knowing that I know how much you make at your rank, is a pompous idiot. 

Despite all of these things, I was still pretty tolerant of Das German. Every morning when we drop the girls off at school, I can be polite and listen as she rambles on about how they should be stationed at the Pentagon and not here, how they should have got a pool (STILL!), how Little Bug is so pretty compared to Julie, and how they aren't going to participate with Julie's school fundraisers because Jay's school already had one. Until Red Ribbon Week hit. Each day had a specific theme. Day one was the day the kids got to dress up like what they want to be when they're older, day two was Tie-dye, day three was patriotic, day four was pajamas, and day five was crazy hair day. Little Bug dressed as a rock star for day one and while the kids were playing before class, N asked me what I was going to do about the tie-dye shirt. I told her I was going to make one. 

Then, my hatred of her officially began. She went on to tell me how difficult it was going to be to make a tie-dye shirt and how it WOULD NOT BE FAIR to Julie if Little Bug had one and she did not. Yeah, it wouldn't be fair to YOUR child that I make MY child a shirt. You know what isn't fair? The fact that if it was for Jay, you would have made three shirts so she had options. I made a shirt anyway, her child's feelings be damned and it cost me less than ten bucks and a few hours of my time. But from that point on, everything out of her mouth has sparked a rage in me that I can not quell. 

She is atrocious right? But wait, it gets worse. She treats me like her human Google. Every morning, EVERY FUCKING MORNING, she has a new batch of questions for me that a normal person would just, well, Google. Or Bing, pick your poison. At first it was just questions about the weather this time of year and if I know of any good local whatevers. However, the questions quickly morphed into where should she shop online for multiple, very specific things and what should she buy her 11-year-old niece for Christmas. Each time I try to passively answer the questions, she presses me for more info. Take the present question, I told her, "Aren't most little girls into dolls and stuff. Try that." Should have been the end of the convo right? Nope. She then wanted to know what kind of dolls, what does she do if the niece doesn't like the dolls she sends, should she send it with a gift receipt so she can return it, should she spend more than $50, dolls are kind of immature, maybe she should just send clothes, but what are the sizes....and on and on. Then she abruptly stops and says, "Dolls aren't right for her. I shouldn't have asked you." Go. Fuck. Yourself.

I don't answer now. I just pretend that watching Little Bug play is taking every ounce of my being. She hasn't clued in and still asks. I must not reply because the things that will come out of my mouth are not going to be pleasant. Or appropriate to say in front of our children. I feel like this blog hasn't remotely covered the suckfest that is Das German N, but she's one of those women you have to experience in person...

Anyway, I'm exhausted and need to sleep. I'll check in with Black Friday drama next week.

Oh, here's Little Bug's Red Ribbon Week pics:

OF COURSE she wants to be a Rock Star when she grows up!

Yeah, I made that shirt.

Voting for her future and waving like a candidate.

Pajama day...except she didn't sleep in those.

Her idea of crazy hair was me NOT styling it. One mom tried to make a dig by saying "I thought YOU of all the mom's would have done something crazy!" To which I replied, "She wanted it down and unstyled, like your daughter, every day." Take that bitch...and change out of your pajama pants.

Should've Said No

I am perfectly aware that the title of this blog is a Taylor Swift song. I don't hate all of her music, I just think she's a crazy person.

Moving on. Today is a true Must Have Monday (finally)! Let's get to it, shall we?

I finally have convinced my Little Bug that she doesn't have to be a vampire for Halloween. She had this whole bit about how Halloween is supposed to be "scary Halloween" and since Hubby is going to be Michael Meyers, she had to be something scary. I wanted to kill HIM because I just want one more year of pretty princesses. We had a family chat (after weeks of her telling me she wants to be a princess and him a vampire) about it and she said "Halloween doesn't have to just be scary. I want to be Merida!" YES! I win! Um, I mean, it wasn't a competition....but I win! So here's the costume in all of it's awesomeness!

The whole set can be found HERE! Although, I would hate to think you copied my kid...lol 

 Little Bug also got a new bed...or is getting one. Her toddler bed was pretty kewl (say it like Cartman, just do it) and it matched all the other Tinkerbell shiz in her room. But she decided that jumping on the toddler bed was way better than sleeping on it. It died. Her room is too small for a double, at least if we want her to have play room, so I found this twin bed (on sale!) at Walmart.com:

It matches her dresser and got great reviews. <3 it!

This also means she needs a new bedding set. Found that too!

Target has this Circo Love n Nature Quilt set for only $69 and it totally matches the Pinterest crafts I made for her wall!

Oh wow, this got a little Little Bug centered. On to some shit you might really buy. I broke down and bought a Keurig. My life is forever changed. 

This is the B70 Platinum Brewing System. Mine came with 60 k-cups and a reusable one at Costco for just $149. You can also find it on Amazon for $159 in case Costco is out-of-stock.

Here are some of my fave K-cups:

Coconut Mocha with a little milk and sugar over ice is DEVINE!

Last one for the day, I can only "shop" so much before I have to pick Little Bug up from school. Besides, I get enough boxes from online stuff, I keep this up and it'll be every damn day! And this one is super cheap...

Abby over at My Yellow Sandbox featured this tip from Melissa at Lulu & Sweet Pea {a day in the life} and I am fairly positive my life has been changed. I will probably do a before and after post about it. 

All you do is mix 3 parts water and 1 part Apple Cider Vinegar, put it on a cotton round, and wipe your face. It's replaced my toner and my skin is feeling great and my redness and zits have started to go away and it's only been 2 days!

Okay peeps, I've got a BMT (Basic Military Training) Time warp for you tomorrow at the request of my Baby Sis. I've started it, but it is taking me FOREVER. Do you know how much hilarious shit goes down in six weeks with that many chicks? A. LOT. I told her I would do it though and that was almost two weeks ago...perhaps I should've said no...see, I did work it in there.

A Change is Gonna Come

I am a livid lady. Seriously seeing red. I want to punch some bitches in the face but in this case, it would be a hate crime. Let me explain.

I took Little Bug to school this morning as per usual. It was actually a great morning. She wasn't fussy when she woke up and didn't roll her eyes at me when I took pictures. Well maybe in this one she did, she wasn't facing me and was explaining to me that she didn't need me to hold her hand.

We got to school and I let her run to the playground to get in "one good slide trip" as she calls it. Then it was time to line-up with the rest of her class. Little Bug is in the collaborative Pre-k which means it is filled with 4-year-olds (who speak English already) and 3-4 year-olds with special needs. The other class, which lines up next to hers is the ESL class (English as a second language). All of the kids are Spanish speakers. When you think Spanish speakers and El Paso, you think Hispanics, and you would be right. The class is Hispanic only.

This morning, a tacky Hispanic woman shows up with her kid in tow and loudly greets one of the other moms. In English, mind you. She says "Oy yay, I haven't seen you in forevers!" and the other basically repeats this. The first mom is wearing too-tight skinny jeans, sky high wedges, a top that is meant for a teenager and her hair and makeup (while flawless) is more televangelist preacher than everyday wear. Her son has breakfast on his face and shirt and his hair is a hot mess. There is nothing I hate more than parents who take time on themselves and let their kids look like shit. Well, I probably hate terrorists and Iranians more, but I digress.

The woman explains to the second mom that she got a call from the school that her son would be "truanced" if she didn't bring him in. She said, "I thought it was like whenever you bring them. It's just preschooled." Apparently she didn't get the message that they are now enrolled in the public school system. Attendance matters. 

They babbled on about other shit and then Mom Numero Uno says to Numero Dos that all the kids in their class are Mexican and all the kids in Little Bug's class are white. "That's so racists cuz they keep the gringos together." Um, what?! Little Bug's class has at least one kid of EVERY race, seriously. We even have a Samoan kid. But why does that even matter?! Your child's class is for kids that do not speak English. They're taught the same curriculum as my kid, but in Spanish. Would you like my English speaking child to be put in your class just to whiten up the place? Do you want your kid in the other class so they can sit and not understand what's going on? Our children are there to learn. Your child is in that class to learn English with a specially designed system that makes that happen.

Maybe she should have taught her kid some of that English she was talking shit in, then he could be with the "gringos." I know saying anything to her would have been a waste of time. She'd just call me a racist of make a scene, so I let it go. It isn't worth looking like a bitch in front of my child, though she had no problem running her mouth in earshot of the kids. Plus, who really wants to go to jail for beating the face in of a dumb twat? Not me.

Here's why I got livid. As the kids were walking into the building, at the end of the line was this little girl in Little Bug's class who has Down's Syndrome. She's so stinkin' cute and is super fierce. Doesn't want to hold the teacher's hand, is the first one to try and sneak over to the playground before the bell, told her dad that she doesn't need him to stay in the morning because she's a big girl, I just love her. Anyway, she's bringing up the rear and I start to walk out to the parking lot and I hear Numero Uno say to Numero Dos, "At least we don't have that!" followed by them laughing and looking directly at her.

I wanted (and still want) to cut a bitch. The violence in Juarez would look like world peace after I got done with them. Who the fuck laughs at a special needs kid? That little girl has more intelligence and spirit in her pinkie than you do in your entire FAMILY. I actually stopped walking and almost started towards her, but my fear of prison stopped me. I did play a grisly death scene in my head where they were leaving the school and got ran over and dragged for miles by the day care drop off bus. I was actually disappointed when it didn't come to fruition. 

People like that, be they any race, piss me the fuck off. Karma cannot come hit those broads fast enough. I'm going to try and let it go, but if they're running their mouths at pick-up today, I might have an update for you. I'll still be blogging class tonight, see you then.

Forever Young

Little bug started school today. It's only Pre-K and 3 hours-a-day, but it's at the elementary school. She loved it and I didn't cry one bit. It was a nice break.

So no must have's today (I know, again!). You're treated to pics of my lovely on her first day of school.

She seemed a bit nervous @ breakfast.

About to leave, her smile finally popped out!

Waiting to go in...

She looks a bit terrified on the left, but soon was her hammy self again!

They have to line up before they can be released.

My Little Bug did wonderful!

And now, Little Bug would like to tell all of you how her day was:

I. Love. My. Friends. Julianna is my best friend and she is really nice. She has blue bows and brown hair. They love me too. School is fun because I get to learn math and teach the kids. Rainbows are really pretty but I didn't see one today. My friends love flowers. Flowers are okay, but rainbows are really prettier.

I had fun today and I didn't cry. The one boy with the necklace, he cried all day. I cried this morning because Momma woked up me so early. That's not nice.

I was being good and I listened to the rules from my teacher. I don't remember number one, but number 2 is to raise your hand if you want to talk. Oh, number 1 is be nice. Or be quiet. I did that. My teacher says I am a good helper and I told her because I practice.

Momma came and got me like she said. She didn't leave me. That's why I didn't cry. She comes back for me. Maybe the kids that cried don't have mommas that come back. The one boy with the necklace did but he still cried.

Momma took me to Hobby Lobby after school. She's gonna make me hair bows for Friday in 1000 months. I get to wear my school shirt. It's blue and white and has a coyote that says "Awwwooooooo!" But I'm not a coyote, I'm just pretending.

I get to watch Yo Gabba Gabba now so goodbye and see you later. Don't smell my feet because Momma said that's gross.

There you have it folks, straight from Little Bug. See you tomorrow!

ABC

Little Bug had to get shots today. She was brave and conned me into a doughnut afterward. She has 2 more next month and then one in December and then she'll be all caught up. It seems like a bunch, but because the medical clinic in Germany lost her shot record, she had to get some repeats. When we PCS'd they gave us the wrong one and then when I called from the states (one hell of a bill) they said they purged their records. Um, by law you have to keep them for 5 years after the child's 18th birthday. Apparently, Little Bug is 23 now.

Whatever. She needs them anyway, now she's just super protected when she starts school next month. Yep. Next. Month. It's pre-K and only 3 hours a day, but she's very excited. I am too, but the more I think about it, the sadder I get! She's really going to be fine, I don't even think she'll miss me all that much, but I worry about how the other kids will treat her.

Too many times here in the Sun City she's been picked on for being blond-haired and blue-eyed. She's gotten teased for not speaking Spanish or for pronouncing something wrong when she tries. She's really one of the kindest kids you'll ever meet but doesn't quite grasp why other kids aren't. How do you tell your 4-year-old that someone doesn't want to be their friend because of her skin color? Especially when things like that don't even enter into her mind.

I'm just going to have to be THAT MOM. I'll volunteer for everything, make snacks and crafts and all that jazz to ensure she's getting treated well, if not better, than the other kids. I'll join the PTA and kiss whoever's ass I need to to make damn sure that she isn't discriminated against or picked on. It breaks my heart when someone is mean to her (and I try not to break their faces) but I will be damned if it happens at school.

Now on to happy school thought...shopping! She doesn't have to wear a uniform (kinda bummed, they're so cute!). This leaves me with unlimited potential to have a pre-k fashionista. And backpacks...they are so stinkin' cute! There's a Brave one that I love for her, but she'll probably want something pink. Lame.

Today was supposed to be a Must Have Monday, but I highly doubt any of you really would like any of the things I picked. I'm in class mom mode and already have a super long school must list.

I'll return to typical Fat Bottomed girl form tomorrow. I'll time warp one of my most memorable first days of school, Riggins, Idaho. It is not to be missed.

Until then, feel free to share with me some pre-k tips for me and her. Routines that work, sleep schedules, whatever will make this stress free and fun! See you tomorrow.

Take U To Da Movies

I caved. I'm blogging my movie excursion. But first, the title of the blog is (of course) a song title, but you MUST see the music video.

BANGS- Take U To Da Movies

You. Are. Very. Welcome. What's that? You didn't thank me for bringing such awesome into your life? Well, you will later when this gem is stuck in your head. Because you can go to da movies any time u like, but guess who you gonna call? U baby boy, Bangs. 

Okay, took Little Bug to the 11:55 (AM because I am not an awful parent...too soon?) showing of Ice Age: Continental Drift. Her cousins had already seen it and raved about how funny it was, so she was dying to go. My older sister said that it wasn't bad either, so I wasn't dreading it. We got to the theater at 11:30-ish so I'd have plenty of time to get tickets, get her to use the bathroom, get her snack and find seats. I know it's been out for a while, but it was Saturday morning. There are always families out on Saturday morning. And, frankly, I wanted the seats in the front part of the top section so I could put my feet on the rail.

By 11:45 we entered the theater and our seats were open. I situated Little Bug, laid out her spread of popcorn, M&M's and fruit punch and checked in on Foresquare (gotta get dem points). There were a few other people in the theater but they were sitting higher up. They also didn't have children with them. Score! Kids movies without kids are the best. Little Bug doesn't count. She behaves better than most adults. 

Slowly, like Michael Phelps' 400 IM performance tonight kind of slowly, people started coming in. It's sort of a pet peeve of mine when people are late to a movie. They come in and finger pop each other's assholes instead of finding a seat. They yell for the rest of their party to join them, though they are only 2 feet away. Granted, I think late to a movie is one second after the trailers have started. These people were still technically on time. 

First up was a middle-aged Hispanic man with a soul-patch. He wore cargo shorts and a tee that had some attempt at a witty saying. He was followed by his wife, a white woman who looked younger with dirty blond hair and a very tired look. She pushed an umbrella stroller with a child in it. He was about 1, maybe younger, but he was already fussy. The husband sat down to the left of us but a row back, mumbling about how the seat he wanted was taken. I'm pretty sure he meant us as he was scowling right at me. The wife left the stroller at the base of the steps (with the baby in it) and then went to her husbands side. As the baby fussed and flailed, she stood next to his chair as he listed off things he wanted from the snack bar. She nodded and then started to walk out of the theater, but turned back when he said "Take care of it. I'm not missing this movie." She obediently fetched the stroller and left. 

I was not aware that Ice Age was the must see movie of the year. She came back after only a few minutes, juggling popcorn, a soda and two boxes of candy along with the stroller. Again, she left the baby at the foot of the stairs and took him his feast. She went back to the baby and started to take him out of the stroller, but the husband said "Keep him in it cause I ain't holdin' him." 

That's where she STOOD for the rest fo the movie. Just to the left of us, a family of four sat down. Well, the mom first asked if the seat next to Little Bug was taken and I said no. She plopped her 10-year-old down in the seat, then she sat, then her other kid, then the father. She handed the other kid a box of candy and then turned to the 10-year-old and said "You're in trouble, you don't get any!" I'm all for punishing your children if they deserve it, but she said it like she was getting off on it. I actually heard her let out a "ha ha ha." 

Behind us sat a family of 7. Five boys, all under 6 easily, and a mom and dad. The mom looked frazzled and understandably so. Her oldest (and fattest) sat behind me and proceeded to kick the headrest of my seat. Mommy dearest was dealing with a 2-year-old who was trying to take her diet coke (which she SCREAMED at him for) and Fatty wanted her to pay attention to him. He kept saying "Look mom, I'm kicking the chair. Look what I'm doing mom! Mom look!" I didn't hear her correct him, but he stopped suddenly. She probably gave him a "mom look". The dad stood up and said "I ahve to use the restroom", though it was more of a request than a statement of fact. She glared at him and said "Go. Quickly." 

Once the movie started, I figured it wouldn't be so bad. Kids make "oohs" and "aahs" and even talk a bit, but it's a kids movie. That's what they do. I was wrong. It wasn't just so bad. It was awful. Little Bug makes me thank the lord that she's my daughter and I didn't get stuck with any other kid in that theater. 

The 10-year-old spent the whole movie kicking the bars in front of us. It started out as an annoying vibration I could feel in my propped-up feet and then morphed into a constant "thomp thomp thomp" for the entire course of the flick. He also kept trying to steal Little Bug's M&M's when she would set them in her cup holder. I caught him each time. He would watch her and slowly creep his hand on the bag, until he'd see me looking and he'd turn and resume his kicking. His mother (a Fressa if I've ever seen one) largely ignored him the whole time as she was too busy, ANSWERING HER PHONE. She would answer it (a total of 6 TIMES) and say "Hey. Yeah. I can't talk. I'm in a movie. Yeah, that one. I know. I'll call you back." The sixth time became her last as I had finally had enough. The kid was kicking and trying to steal the M&M's whilst giving everyone a play-by-play of the movie and she answered her phone again. I had had enough. I said "Excuse me. If my 4-year-old can behave, then maybe should get off your phone and make your kid behave." She glared at me hard and then said into her phone "Yeah, I gotta go. Some white girl is getting pissed."

Back to the father and husband of the year. His wife stood for the whole movie and that baby wailed for 30 minutes straight. No exaggeration. He didn't even flinch. He just belly-laughed at stuff that wasn't that funny and would say "Oh shit!" during the action parts. His wife walked the baby out once, but came back in, only to have it wail again. But he had the nerve to loudly whisper "shut up!" when the family of 7's 2-year-old got excited. Part of me wanted to do his wife a favor and forcibly shut him up, but he definitely wasn't worth jail time.

Once the movie ended, I realized how many adults were in the theater. Far more than the number of children. It always skeeves me out when older adults are kidless at a kids movie. Shaking off the heeby-jeebies, I started to gather our things and trash, but sat as Little Bug danced to the end credits music. The Fressa stood up, walked right into her 10-year-old and then promptly launched her phone into the air. No one saw where it landed apparently, because she screamed at her husband to call it. I had to laugh out loud. She glared at me, but then frantically returned to searching (on her hands and knees) for it. The husband and kids started to grab their trash and she said "LEAVE IT! FIND MY PHONE!" I told Little Bug to grab her M&M's packaging because "good people don't leave their garbage. Only awful people do." Little Bug, as if catching on to the dig, said "That's right Momma, we're not awful people who leave their trash." I love that kid.

It always happens to me, it seems. But really, I bet this happens at every movie. I just have awesome situational awareness and keen observation skills. Really, the next time you're out-and-about and not rushed, take your time and observe everything around you. Eavesdrop a bit, stare even. You'll be amazed how fucked up the world around you is.

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

Baseball, without an ounce of doubt, is America's past time. I care not that basketball and football get higher ratings, nor will I admit that the steroid scandal has damaged the games reputation. Sure, when Barry Bonds was accused (fuck it he's guilty) of using them, I stopped being a Giants fan. A team that I had loved since as far back as I can remember had a fucking cheater and it killed me. It was one thing for other teams to have their Mcgwire's and Sammy Sosa's, but not my Giants. It wasn't until recently, maybe 4 or 5 years ago that I began to enjoy the game again and LOVE the Giants. Before the World Series win, mind you. My baby sis was and is a bit of a baseball nut. Just listening to her go on and on about stats and records and mostly the Giants renewed my love of the game. Brian Wilson's beard also helped, have you seen it? He's pure awesome. James Harden of the Thunder can only aspire to this amount of greatness.

So with this renewed love of the game, and a husband who played it for years, we enrolled Little Bug in T-Ball. Soccer was pure chaos, all they did was run aimlessly and get a lucky goal, but T-Ball would be different. She would have to focus and hopefully, with the right coach, love the game. Unfortunately, we will never know about the right coach part because Hubby and I were the only parents who were willing to coach.

We're a few weeks into the 11-week season right now. It's hot as hell in the Sun City and windy to boot. The fields are this red/orange-dirt that covers everything and anything. And the kids, well, the kids are 4 and 5 years old. Anyone who has ever met a 4 or 5 year old knows that they can't remember to wipe their ass, have the patience of a full bladder, and the attention span of Snookie. Well, probably a bit better than Snookie. It's been challenging, to say the least, but they have made INCREDIBLE progress.

Little Bug still prefers to play with the dirt than pay attention. She still thinks Mommy and Daddy should drop everything to pay attention to her. Oh, and she is one-half of our terrible twosome. Her and this blond haired blue eyed boy have been drawn together like magnets since the first day. They quote Adventure Time, finish each other's sentences, laugh at the silly faces they make, and his mother says she has to write this in a memory book because it's his first case of puppy love. It's cute, really, but I want to separate them just so I can get them to listen.

We had a buy last week and practice wasn't great. It was almost 104 that day and even though we didn't practice until 7pm, they were just miserable. Couldn't pay attention to save their lives. I held out no hope for a good game today. It has been stormy here and I prayed for our game to be rained out, but no such luck. We were at the field with plenty of time before the start of our game and Little Bug sat in the bleachers playing with the other kids. We talked with the photographer the rec center cleared about our team pics, went over the roster one more time to make sure we had a good batting order, and as the kids started to arrive, I already saw it their faces. It was hot and I could go fuck myself.

To make matters worse, our game started 15 mins later than it was supposed to. The other teams that were playing went over their time limit because they wanted a second inning. T-Ball rules are really simple: don't let them kill each other and as long as every kid hits once, you're good to go. No one is keeping score (I am), there are no outs, who cares how many at-bats your kids has? Gotta make sure they get bat time in front of all the scouts? By the time we start, I've already lost any energy required to wrangle them. Whatever, they'll suck but at least they'll have fun. Oh, and we only had 8 out of our 12. So at least batting would be quick right?

We took the field first. Just getting them to stand in the right place is a challenge and today was even worse. I told one kid to go to first and he said "Where's first?" Because you've never stood at it or played it before right? He spent the whole game whining that his leg hurt. Maybe if you didn't dive for every ball (even though there was never a need to) your legs wouldn't hurt. His dad came out on the field and tried to correct him, but he's that kid. The one who has an injury or has to pee or has dirt in his eye or needs his mom, anything to avoid actually playing. Between him and Little Bug dancing in the outfield, I was exhausted. Hubby just gave up and stopped trying to correct. I should have too.

OH! Before I mess up the timeline, after the first 4 at-bats, one of the rec center staffers brings out one of our team members. This kid got dropped off (late) by his dad, but to the wrong field. The dad just took off. What's worse is the kid didn't even have the situational awareness to realize that it was the wrong red team and tried to bat for them. The team was 6/7 year olds and the coach was great. He made sure the staffer knew that the kid was just dropped off, no parent and told him that it looked like he belonged on our field. This kid doesn't really talk, but won't talk at all to adults, or even turn his head in acknowledgement that you are speaking to him. He cries because his glove is on the wrong hand but when you tell him to switch it, he won't. Telling him to pay attention is a waste of time because it's like he goes out of his way to get hit by the ball. His father is a jackass that all the other parents hate and a small part of me thinks he may be abusive. His dad didn't show up until the end of the game. I made sure we reported it to the rec center director because of the no drop off policy and I also mentioned the dad and his rage issues. I confided in them my abuse suspicions as well, and they assured me that they would pass it along to CPS. No child is that fearful of adults without a good reason to be.

BUT that was not the most eventful part of the game. During our first at-bat, we were rather slow in getting the kids up to the plate. Quite frankly, I was the only person in the dugout and I was more concerned with getting water in them than how quickly they got on deck. Hubby was at the plate with them, another dad in the practice box and I was trying to put on helmets, take off their gloves (and assure them they'd get them back), prevent the fist fight that was brewing between two of the boys, and keep their water in their cups or mouths and not their clothing. We did pretty well, considering, but not well enough for the third base coach of the other team. 

He was old and obviously a grandpa, and apparently, our speed enraged him. He yelled out "Come on batter, get it movin', get it movin'." I was trying to get the possibly abused child up and he froze immediately. I assured him he was okay and the old man kept it up. "Get up there, we ain't got all day!" I looked right at him and said "Stop, please. They are 4 and 5 years old." He didn't listen, just got louder. "Knock it off," I added. "They're little kids. You need to be quiet." When he started up again, because how dare a woman tell him anything, the dad helping in the practice box raised the bat in his hand and said "SIR! Knock. It. Off." The dad's size and stern voice did it. Got the attention of the umpire as well and he kicked him off the field. After the game, he came into our dugout and tried to shake my hand, but since they were full, felt the need to pat me on the back. He said "It's cool coach." His pat was more of a full-on slap and I winced. I said "It's not cool. You don't yell at children, especially the ones on my team. And you don't need to touch me." He stepped back, aghast, but then walked the fuck away. I am against elderly abuse, but ol' dude needed an ass whoopin'. If he had said anything else, I probably would have knocked his ass out. He just screamed mean ass old man. I hate mean ass old men.

Any who, the kids got ice-cream after the game and all seemed well. The worst kids from week one were the best behaved today. Little Bug has further affirmed that she'll be a drama/music kind of gal, and that's okay. And I get to drink booze and eat chocolate with my gals tonight. All in all, not a horrible day.

This One's For The Girls

The following, minus things in parenthesis, was transcribed by me, but word-for-word said by Little Bug. She said she wanted to blog, so blog she shall.

When I woke up last morning, I watched TV. I made mommy and daddy move so I could be in there bed. Daddy put on Nick Jr and then went down the stairs. I took his pillows and spot. It was Miss Spider's Sunny Patch. It has spiders. It has those dandy flowers too. Those ones. Mommy was asleep still because she's got ears with water in them. She said it hurts. I got water in my ear from swimming. Daddy throws me in the water and I go under and it doesn't hurt. (I'm taking this as her telling me to suck it up.)

Mommy got me dressed in shorts that have pockets and are brown. My shirt has pink and blue, but it's a little teeny orange. I got to wear my TOMS. They're like grown-up shoes but they're really cool and I like them. They're my favorite shoes and that's all I'm gonna say. Mommy did my hair and she brushes it, like a little hurt because she always makes it tangled. Well, not her making it tangled, she makes it untangled like Rapunzel but I don't have girls to make it braids.

I went to get my new glasses with Daddy last week (yesterday). We were at Miss Shannon's house and I hit the wall and they broked. I hit my face really hard. They were very new and pink too. But now they're more new and still pink. Miss Shannon gave Mommy a towel that made my face feel better. And then Mommy said "How do you feel?" and I said "All better." That's why I got new glasses.

Grandma took me to lunch with Mommy at Chili's but I didn't have to eat a chili. I ate macaroni and cheese. And oranges. And lemonade. I'm the greatest eater. Sometimes I am awesome and so strong. I love everything and people. I can make my muscles big when I eat.

I play baseball and I always hit the ball with the bat. You have to run to the base really fast. Then you can run to the other base if your team hits that ball. I do it all the time. We're the red team (Diablos). Abigail is my best friend. She hits the ball really great. I like t-ball. Coach Daddy and Coach Mommy help us play the game. They always say "Line up! We're gonna give the other team high-fives!" and I say "Coach Mommy, are you Mommy now?" and she says "Not yet" or "Yes I am." You can't have Mommy and Daddy when they are Coach because it isn't fair to the kids. They don't have Mommy's and Daddy's who like baseball so I have to share.

I always clean my pets with my glove. I have to get rid of the hair or they get angry (they get angry because of the glove!). I give them hugs but I have to catch them. I always like to pet them. Daddy always helps me clean them in the bathtub or the pool. They don't like it because they are cats and they say "Meow, meow, meow" and I think they want to fight Daddy. Not me though. They love me. Gracie is my favorite kittie because she's a girl and doesn't bite me like Cali, the other girl.

The zoo is a big place where animals live. They have a lot of animals there (not really). There are giraffes, tigers and lions. The boy lion peed on the wall. They're really big. Giraffe's favorite food is leaves on the branches but we didn't see leaves. Tigers drink lots of milk (Tony the Tiger). Do you know what the monkey's like to do at the zoo? They like throwing their poop on people. They just do that because they're poop is yucky and they like it on people's arms and legs. Elephants put water in their noses to drink it. That's how the water got in Mommy's ears. I think she went to the zoo by herself and got sprayed. (When would I do that? I asked) Last night, you went to the zoo and that's why you made me go to bed.

Poppa is so silly. He always says "You are a Mudcat!" and I say "Nanny nanny boo boo, I'm not afraid of you" because I'm NOT! Then he chases me cause I grab his tail and he has to run cause I choke him (she does). I always choke him because it's the right thing to do because he tries to be bossy to me. Poppa is not my boss. Grandma says I am Poppa's boss. I'll always be his boss. He gives me a blessing before I go to sleep at night time. He says "In the name of the father, the son, holy ghost, amen" and then I wipe my nose off.

We go swimming with Daddy all the time because he says "One, Two, Three, GO!" and throws me in the sky and then I fall in the pool. I get water in my nose and I say "Daddy you got water in my nose!" and then we do it again. He laughs but it makes my nose have water and yuckies. Mommy goes swimming with us too but she doesn't throw me. Miss Shannon and Mr. Rob come to our house and go swimming with us. They bring Ava and Caitlyn and they are my best friends. They swim with me because swimming is good for kids. Caitlyn and my dad and Mr. Rob play volleyball but we have a new volleyball game with the floaters on it and I can play.

So, Grandma likes her flowers but the cats always get into it, inside AND outside, and Grandma doesn't like that. She always says "Now look what you did, you pooped in my flowers!" She made me a cactus garden with a turnel (turtle). It's a big garden. The cat's don't go in my garden cause then they'd say "Oh! I stuck my butt!"

My favorite show is Adventure Time. It has Jake and Finn and Jake called Finn a Butt Chicken! Okay so, Jake said in the library, Finn you come back here you Butt Chicken! And the Ice King said "Gunther! Are you blowing it up in there?!" and then Finn said "Man you're gross." Ice King took all the princesses body parts and made a princess that he didn't kidnap. He took Lumpy Space Princesses lumps and it was gross. Lumpy Space Princess is gross because she's lumpy. She sanged a song about her lumps for chumps. The Ice King was smelling something and it wasn't Gunther, it was the Ice King smelling! The Ice King turned into Finn. I think Jake said he was gonna find a lady for his laddy, but he didn't. Something else though, Finn was gonna marry a fire princess but she was evil and she gave him a smack on the face and said "You never do that again!" Finn is so brave.

I'm going to marry Spike. He will have brown hair and a black shirt and black pants and have brown shoes. He's very handsome and is my favorite boy that I will marry. We will have a pink dog with pink hair that talks and stands up. Daddy said "No way that's ba-nay-nay" but Mommy said I have to go to college first. I think I'll be an astronaut in college because outer space is for when you're older. Okay, so there's aliens there and they have eyes on top of their head and they need to talk to people in college and tell them they are aliens. Astronauts have rocket ships and they fly them, so I can do that. They have astronaut shoes and I like shoes a lot. 

I think that's all I want to say. It makes me tired to talk (not tired enough for a nap). You're my best friends and I love you.

Back to Tiffany:

That took almost an hour and a half to get out of her. I had to read things back to her, get her approval for the pictures and then she told me to start over. I actually started over once but the second time told her to kick rocks. You missed an amazing story about her Princess Castle and why she wants me to give it away and buy a bigger one. 

See ya Thursday!