Its been a long time since I've posted anything. Having no camera really puts a damper on a lot of things, sadly. However I've found something nice for those of you out there who like the odd shiny metalwork.
Let us start with the strange, yet lovely video:
The style you're looking at is Steampunk, something I've been really enjoying the look of lately. This person designs some great jewelry and such. They have an Etsy shop if you want to look through and maybe buy something. The old jewelry maker in me loves looking at all the stuff there. The bugs are awesome.
Speaking of bugs. We got a couple of mantis egg cases we're going to be raising. Kid's excited. I hope we do a good job and they don't all eat each other. Ha ha. Poor sister of mine though, she wanted some adult ones and ordered as such, I think the seller mixed up on the orders. I kinda had a feeling something was off when we got the package and it was so small. No way any adult mantis could fit in there I thought and sure enough out came two egg cases. Oh boy what a surprise that was. Bratling needs a pet soon. She's getting to about that age.
What do y'all think of Hissing Roaches? Unorthodox pet for a first grader or what. Hee hee. She likes the idea and because they're well... roaches they are hardy critters. Plus where as her buddies will have mice, hamsters, and fish. My bratling will have her own hissing roach for show and tell. I love it. Now if only I can con Pa into agreeing with me...
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Christmas Crafts
Some of us out there love to make our presents. Perhaps you do too. For the big time crafters the Christmas craft gifts should be started soon. I think I know what I want to make this year!
Crochet Christmas Tampons~!
Thanks to the Microblogologist sibling of mine for mentioning it. I'm pretty sure she got it from McMommy (you horrible influence you *). Naturally I 1upped the idea and brought it to a whole new level of wrong. What better gift can you give that weird group of friends that you don't readily admit to than this? It sure tops the very nonappropriate cards from last year. And if you're particularly sadistic, this will make a great family gift.
I'll have to try and squeeze this project in. Currently we're in gardening prep and that wears me out real well. Combine that with kid watching, I have my hands full. That and bratling doesn't need the talk yet for another four years. Though I guess it's never too soon to tell a poor girl what a week out of every month is going to be like come puberty to menopause. I think I'll wait till she's eight. School tells them about these things anyways come fourth or fifth grade if memory serves me correct. Just think though with a ball of yarn, a hook and some materials for the hat, I have the most adorably inappropriate gifts I could come up with**.
----------asterisks-------------
*McMommy isn't a bad influence, more like an awesome one. Lol.
**The most wildly inappropriate gift idea I've really ever had involved a jar full of embalmed squirrel heads... Yeah, I know I'm odd too.
Crochet Christmas Tampons~!Thanks to the Microblogologist sibling of mine for mentioning it. I'm pretty sure she got it from McMommy (you horrible influence you *). Naturally I 1upped the idea and brought it to a whole new level of wrong. What better gift can you give that weird group of friends that you don't readily admit to than this? It sure tops the very nonappropriate cards from last year. And if you're particularly sadistic, this will make a great family gift.
I'll have to try and squeeze this project in. Currently we're in gardening prep and that wears me out real well. Combine that with kid watching, I have my hands full. That and bratling doesn't need the talk yet for another four years. Though I guess it's never too soon to tell a poor girl what a week out of every month is going to be like come puberty to menopause. I think I'll wait till she's eight. School tells them about these things anyways come fourth or fifth grade if memory serves me correct. Just think though with a ball of yarn, a hook and some materials for the hat, I have the most adorably inappropriate gifts I could come up with**.
----------asterisks-------------
*McMommy isn't a bad influence, more like an awesome one. Lol.
**The most wildly inappropriate gift idea I've really ever had involved a jar full of embalmed squirrel heads... Yeah, I know I'm odd too.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Giant Cricket, On the Scene
Remember when bratling was afraid of crickets? I do. She found that old picture of a giant groady cricket that I had "autographed" for her by Giant Cricket. This lead to her getting depressed and whiny on an otherwise good day... She missed her cricket friend. I tried to cheer her up in a conventional way but she was in one of those kinda moods where nothing would work. Nothing normal.
I told her to stay upstairs with GRA whilst I looked into getting her a surprise and lo and behold thus began an experiment in elaborate yarn spinning. I "e-mailed" Giant Cricket, whom I told whelp moved to Florida. Giant Cricket emailed me back. It cheered her right up.
"Giant Cricket is real!"
The warm fuzzies fizzled about an hour later when she wrote a love letter to the family on the wall with my graphite stick and even further when she hid her dinner under the table. Oh well, Can't have everything. Let's see how far Giant Cricket'll go.
As for me, I'm pretty good. Not in the best of condition. Like my sister has said, "They don't make them like they used to." My wrists are messed up. That combined with a definitive lack of a camera has put me pretty much out of commission at the time. I just like to remind everyone that I am in fact still alive.
I told her to stay upstairs with GRA whilst I looked into getting her a surprise and lo and behold thus began an experiment in elaborate yarn spinning. I "e-mailed" Giant Cricket, whom I told whelp moved to Florida. Giant Cricket emailed me back. It cheered her right up.
"Giant Cricket is real!"
The warm fuzzies fizzled about an hour later when she wrote a love letter to the family on the wall with my graphite stick and even further when she hid her dinner under the table. Oh well, Can't have everything. Let's see how far Giant Cricket'll go.
As for me, I'm pretty good. Not in the best of condition. Like my sister has said, "They don't make them like they used to." My wrists are messed up. That combined with a definitive lack of a camera has put me pretty much out of commission at the time. I just like to remind everyone that I am in fact still alive.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Housewife: 1 Bratling: 0
Kid came home from kindergarten to find me sitting on the stairs chowing down my mid afternoon breakfast of rice crispies. After our pleasantries of hanging out whilst she showed off her goodies from her take home folder and caught me up on the latest juicy kindergartner gossip involving so and so doing whatever with the whatsit and so on and so forth she determined she wanted a snack. The following conversation went as followed:
Kid: I want a snack.
Me: Lunch~?
Kid: No... Snack. Sssnnnn-ack.
Me: Lunnnnn-ch?
Kid: Snnnn-aaaaa-ck. I want a snack. A fruit roll!
Me: An apple?
Kid: Noooo a fruit roll, not an apple.
Me: Apples roll.
Kid: No they don't. I want a fruit roll.
Me: (Gets up, grabs an apple, and rolls it across the ground over to her.)
Kid: ...
Me: There. It rolled.
Suffice to say, Bratling enjoyed her apple afterwards.
Kid: I want a snack.
Me: Lunch~?
Kid: No... Snack. Sssnnnn-ack.
Me: Lunnnnn-ch?
Kid: Snnnn-aaaaa-ck. I want a snack. A fruit roll!
Me: An apple?
Kid: Noooo a fruit roll, not an apple.
Me: Apples roll.
Kid: No they don't. I want a fruit roll.
Me: (Gets up, grabs an apple, and rolls it across the ground over to her.)
Kid: ...
Me: There. It rolled.
Suffice to say, Bratling enjoyed her apple afterwards.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
The Devious Ingenious Look and Find
As per the last post where I mentioned the copious amounts of crud that had overrun the house and my efforts taken into cleaning it I shall update you all on the current status of Operation Cleanup.
My faithful reader, Nonna wishes there were pictures of pile Crapatoa* and believe me, I do too. I shall pull out my archives and find photo evidence of the once majestic, long gone mini mount to satiate curiosity. For morbid curiosity sakes I bring you an unedited picture of old pile Crapatoa before it hit its full glory
Now picture it about three times bigger.
There you have it, early Crapatoa. That corner space between the stairs and the garage door. It had a good year plus to grow since that picture and grow it did. Now that between rooms room is fully clean (it could use a vacuuming I'll get on that later today).
Pa helps out as does Gra as I have mentioned as well, today I came up with adevious ingenious way to lull Kid into joining my efforts. Look and Find~! It's one of her favorite kinds of books and also computer games that we do together. It started with some empty food boxes hidden about. It quickly escalated into plastic bags and socks. I'm excessively pleased with myself. There's even mini-games to go with our "game". Such as Bag-Bag** Bagsketball and Socks Matcher!. Now Bratling is begging for another round of Look and Find with me and I can not help but giggle within for how easy it was suckering convincing her that cleaning can be fun.
----that section again----
*I can name the mess piles if I want, thank you very much.
**Have a lot of bags? Put the bags in a bag to make a bag-bag! They double as a stuffed bag-ball for extra fun.
My faithful reader, Nonna wishes there were pictures of pile Crapatoa* and believe me, I do too. I shall pull out my archives and find photo evidence of the once majestic, long gone mini mount to satiate curiosity. For morbid curiosity sakes I bring you an unedited picture of old pile Crapatoa before it hit its full glory
Now picture it about three times bigger.There you have it, early Crapatoa. That corner space between the stairs and the garage door. It had a good year plus to grow since that picture and grow it did. Now that between rooms room is fully clean (it could use a vacuuming I'll get on that later today).
Pa helps out as does Gra as I have mentioned as well, today I came up with a
----that section again----
*I can name the mess piles if I want, thank you very much.
**Have a lot of bags? Put the bags in a bag to make a bag-bag! They double as a stuffed bag-ball for extra fun.
Monday, February 2, 2009
PreSpring Cleaning
Goodness have I ever been a busy housewife! I have taken it upon myself to begin cleaning the disaster area also known as my house. Now I know we can't be the only home out there that's in a state of perpetually messy. That fact doesn't comfort me much when some little friend of Bratling comes inside and looks around with an expression of fascinated horror and exclaims in a voice fill with the candid bluntness of youth, "Woah... Your house is messy." Yeah kid, we kinda figured that one out on our own but thanks for pointing it out anyways. As a housewife I must say this statement left me absolutely mortified.
As you may have recalled from an earlier post I mentioned that the messes around the house regroup after only a few days after cleaning it. Something I didn't mention was that a while back I kept the house clean for quite a long time through a strict maintenance cleaning regiment. Yes, the house was clean. I went to Iowa to visit Microblogologist, my sibling, and came back to a ground zero worth of mess. The place looked worse than before and it absolutely killed my drive to fix it. Bring things back to now, only the most half-hearted attempts have been made and I've finally gotten sick of it. I'm tired of the mess and I would like to Kid to finally be able to have friends over without the feeling of dread they dredge up. I began cleaning.
Downstairs level is now a good third clean . I encountered a mess that I shall now describe because I'm lacking a camera at the moment.
The "Where do I even begin" pile:
Characteristics: This pile is formed from a gathering of miscellaneous sources. Essentially it is a junk runoff point. It's whole-lot-of-everything look helps ensure its long term survival because no one can throw the task of cleaning it off onto another and they wouldn't know where to start tackling the pile first even if they did want to fix it.
Who made it? That is unknown, all that is known is that it is made from everyone's junk congregating into a pile of intimidating proportions.
Best way to clean it? Pick a specific type of item in the mess, like cloth for example, and clean it up before picking another. By breaking the mess down into its three main sources; cloth, garbage, and toys you'll find the pile looks less and less intimidating. Sure enough you'll find yourself vacuuming clean carpet before too long.
That pile made that area an embarrassing eyesore, now it's quite pleasant to look at. It's a good start. I recommend using a shop-vac for the initial vacuuming because it can pick up the bigger bits of debris, saving you the trouble of picking up every last tiny scrap on the ground too big for the regular vac. The plus side, and why I think this cleaning round will work is everyone is on board save for Whelp, who hates cleaning, and Whelp's bio-mom, who looks at me like I have a third head for cleaning at all. Maybe, just maybe we can pull this thing off. I definitely hope so.
As you may have recalled from an earlier post I mentioned that the messes around the house regroup after only a few days after cleaning it. Something I didn't mention was that a while back I kept the house clean for quite a long time through a strict maintenance cleaning regiment. Yes, the house was clean. I went to Iowa to visit Microblogologist, my sibling, and came back to a ground zero worth of mess. The place looked worse than before and it absolutely killed my drive to fix it. Bring things back to now, only the most half-hearted attempts have been made and I've finally gotten sick of it. I'm tired of the mess and I would like to Kid to finally be able to have friends over without the feeling of dread they dredge up. I began cleaning.
Downstairs level is now a good third clean . I encountered a mess that I shall now describe because I'm lacking a camera at the moment.
The "Where do I even begin" pile:
Characteristics: This pile is formed from a gathering of miscellaneous sources. Essentially it is a junk runoff point. It's whole-lot-of-everything look helps ensure its long term survival because no one can throw the task of cleaning it off onto another and they wouldn't know where to start tackling the pile first even if they did want to fix it.
Who made it? That is unknown, all that is known is that it is made from everyone's junk congregating into a pile of intimidating proportions.
Best way to clean it? Pick a specific type of item in the mess, like cloth for example, and clean it up before picking another. By breaking the mess down into its three main sources; cloth, garbage, and toys you'll find the pile looks less and less intimidating. Sure enough you'll find yourself vacuuming clean carpet before too long.
That pile made that area an embarrassing eyesore, now it's quite pleasant to look at. It's a good start. I recommend using a shop-vac for the initial vacuuming because it can pick up the bigger bits of debris, saving you the trouble of picking up every last tiny scrap on the ground too big for the regular vac. The plus side, and why I think this cleaning round will work is everyone is on board save for Whelp, who hates cleaning, and Whelp's bio-mom, who looks at me like I have a third head for cleaning at all. Maybe, just maybe we can pull this thing off. I definitely hope so.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Yay Me!
Finally I have arrived. I made money off of my art. I'm so disproportionately proud of myself for this. A while back I drew some graphics and tossed them into a Cafepress shop and forgot about them all together. Then I got a check in the mail for thirty dollars. I was downright tickled pink by this. That design, a streaked agar plate with bifido bacteria, hit it off with some science lover who went and bought a ton of ornaments and buttons. You can't get cooler than that.
I'd like to thank the commitee for choosing this design and making me some bonus money.
It made me happy enough to go out and splurge with bratling at the store. We got a pack of post'it notes, Kid got two whole sets of teddy bear stickers, and I got my older-but-not-the-oldest sibling a rubber iguana that's a better pet than that real one she has. Kid got to fill out the deposit slip for me at the bank which even if it was sloppy like you wouldn't believe, the tellers thought it was so cute that they accepted it anyways. Bratling even swiped my card for me at checkout. It made her day. Now I get to look forward to finding stickers stuck to surfaces they don't belong but hey, makes her happy.
I did another design. I think I even showed it off here. If not I'll just show it off again.
Gotta love teddy bears. Kid loves this one so I might go and make a mini button for her. If any of you want a link to the shop here it is.* I was looking at etsy too but haven't made anything for it yet. In the mean time, I gotta go. Kid needs to bee relocated from the couch back onto her bed along with her mountain of plushies. How they got there the world may never know.
----It definately is copying someone copying somone spot----
*No I did not make a post revolving around pimping a Cafepress link. Just sharing it in case anyone is interested. I'm not a total sellout, that costs extra. ha ha
I'd like to thank the commitee for choosing this design and making me some bonus money.It made me happy enough to go out and splurge with bratling at the store. We got a pack of post'it notes, Kid got two whole sets of teddy bear stickers, and I got my older-but-not-the-oldest sibling a rubber iguana that's a better pet than that real one she has. Kid got to fill out the deposit slip for me at the bank which even if it was sloppy like you wouldn't believe, the tellers thought it was so cute that they accepted it anyways. Bratling even swiped my card for me at checkout. It made her day. Now I get to look forward to finding stickers stuck to surfaces they don't belong but hey, makes her happy.
I did another design. I think I even showed it off here. If not I'll just show it off again.
Gotta love teddy bears. Kid loves this one so I might go and make a mini button for her. If any of you want a link to the shop here it is.* I was looking at etsy too but haven't made anything for it yet. In the mean time, I gotta go. Kid needs to bee relocated from the couch back onto her bed along with her mountain of plushies. How they got there the world may never know.----It definately is copying someone copying somone spot----
*No I did not make a post revolving around pimping a Cafepress link. Just sharing it in case anyone is interested. I'm not a total sellout, that costs extra. ha ha
Monday, January 19, 2009
An Idea That (I Wish) Just Might Work.
Poor Unmarried Housewife has been having an issue lately. Her old Cybershot camera has turned into a Cybershit (naughty housewife* language). This is the camera I have used for years, documenting bratling's life in all its most pointless yet cute moments (and for gathering blackmail for when she's older). It has been a staple way of harassing friends with countless pictures of rabbits and random pictures taken at the drop of the hat. That camera was important, nay, vital to this housewife's domestic life. Now it won't turn on anymore.
Now how will I get new blackmail material?**
Gra hasn't been given the sales pitch yet from me about getting a replacement. Yet, every moment without my camera is just one more moment Kid just has to do something priceless that I wished I could have captured. So my idea is this. I should make myself a blog and title it "Give me free stuff". There everyone can go and give me free stuff and I'd blog about it. Oh don't look at me that way, if you remember I have a history of being a dreamer. Knowing my luck however, one of you out there has already tapped the potential of getting free stuff blogs and I will have to come up with some other benificial yet ultimately frivolous blog. I'll have to get back to you all on that one.
----"there's probably a whole chain of folks being copied with this section" section----
*Naughty housewife is one of my Snoop o' tron's funnier search terms that bring people to this blog. I figure if they really want a naughty housewife I'll just have to keep posting about my regular stunts.
**Oh lordy where do I start with this one. That video is titled "Bunny Dance 3" Kid was three then, and I couldn't suceed at getting my rabbits to dance for their banana.
Kids humor your whims a lot easier. For you enlightenment, bratling has always had that nudist streak in her, only now we can at least keep her pants on... at least for a little while.
Now how will I get new blackmail material?**
Gra hasn't been given the sales pitch yet from me about getting a replacement. Yet, every moment without my camera is just one more moment Kid just has to do something priceless that I wished I could have captured. So my idea is this. I should make myself a blog and title it "Give me free stuff". There everyone can go and give me free stuff and I'd blog about it. Oh don't look at me that way, if you remember I have a history of being a dreamer. Knowing my luck however, one of you out there has already tapped the potential of getting free stuff blogs and I will have to come up with some other benificial yet ultimately frivolous blog. I'll have to get back to you all on that one.
----"there's probably a whole chain of folks being copied with this section" section----
*Naughty housewife is one of my Snoop o' tron's funnier search terms that bring people to this blog. I figure if they really want a naughty housewife I'll just have to keep posting about my regular stunts.
**Oh lordy where do I start with this one. That video is titled "Bunny Dance 3" Kid was three then, and I couldn't suceed at getting my rabbits to dance for their banana.
Kids humor your whims a lot easier. For you enlightenment, bratling has always had that nudist streak in her, only now we can at least keep her pants on... at least for a little while.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Unmarried Housewife does a Meme
"Stupid Meme My Sibling Did But Didn't Tag Me For" Meme
I'd like to think I'm at least somewhat hip enough to do some meme or another eventually.
1. Six names you go by:
I'd like to think I'm at least somewhat hip enough to do some meme or another eventually.
1. Six names you go by:
1. Cheryl
2. Cher-Cher
3. Cherbear
4. Auntie Cheryl
5.The Cheryl
6. Housewife
2. Cher-Cher
3. Cherbear
4. Auntie Cheryl
5.The Cheryl
6. Housewife
2. Three things you are wearing right now:
presumptuous aren't we?
1. Signature hoodie
2. black tee
3. Sock Monkey PJ bottoms
3. Three things you want very badly right now:
1. New camera to replace dead one :(
3. Hot, single, not gay, competent, with a well paying job man slathered in chocolate laying atop a pile of money who is looking to settle down.
As if I'd've left that out.
4. Three people who will fill this out:
Is there anyone crazy enough left to fill out memes?
1. Kid
2. Kid again
3. Even more Kid
5. Two things you did last night:
Don't look at me like that! I'm sleep deprived, I can't remember yesterday let alone what I ate today.1. Kid
2. Kid again
3. Even more Kid
5. Two things you did last night:
1. Tried to sleep for the third time that day
2. Drew
6. Two things you ate today:
6. Two things you ate today:
1. Coffee
2. Um... hm... Something solid and edible... I think?
7. People you last talked to on the phone:
1. Karen
2. Gra's friend Debbie
I should call my bestfriend...
8. Two things you are going to do tomorrow:
2. Gra's friend Debbie
I should call my bestfriend...
8. Two things you are going to do tomorrow:
1. The same thing I do every night; try to take over the world.
2. Make peanut brittle
2. Make peanut brittle
9. Your favorite beverages:
1. Coffee
2. Chocolate Milk
Surprise surprise...
2. Chocolate Milk
Surprise surprise...
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Transformers: The Drama Begins
Round here things don't ever go the way you'd expect them. The counters are buried with clean dishes instead of dirty*, the people within are all dysfunctional and just plain nuts, and little girls don't play with dollies, no, they play with action figures. Well one little girl anyways.
Kid got over the holidays a whole bunch of transformers, my little ponies, littlest petshops, and wall-es. So far the ponies are locked in mortal combat along with the littlest pet shops in which the only brief respite in their conquest is for group tea and birthday parties. Fortunately, and quite unlucky for them, pony years are dreadfully short for I've seen every last pony have a birthday at least three times a day a piece in between grueling battle riyals. I don't know if they have it better than the more boyish of her toys, the transformers though; they are the ones living a soap opera-like teen drama of a life.
I feel sorry for Black Arachnia, a female transformer spider. She has an unfortunate problem: She's the only girl transformers amidst a whole slue of males and unfortunately for her, it would appear the whole lot of them are all gay. It doesn't stop the girl from trying. She's dating at least two of the others now, the hussy. She's also a completely psycho girlfriend, going as far as to stalk her potential paramours relentlessly and constantly declaring her undieing "love" for them all. Poor "The Fallen", he doesn't want to date her at all. After a long day of her constantly showing up where ever he went, trying to feed him foods she knows he's allergic to, and calling him nonstop he had enough and shot her. She's an immortal crazy bizznatch however, and after he sought solace on a high up place of of bratling and subsequently Crazy Spider Lady's reach. From there she started doing illegal, under the table operations upon her recently dumped "boyfriends".
Thank god the kid's five and boys are off and on again gross or I'd be worried for them.
Get out while you still can Fallen!
This amusing expert from the days play will now be written for your delight:
Kid (in best imitation girly voice): "The Fallen! I love you! We should go out now!"
Me (humoring the kid): "The Fallen says she has enough boyfriends (mutters) the hussy..."
Kid: "She's not a hussy! (back to funny girly voice) I dumped them. I only want you now Fallen, I love you."
Me (sadly amused by this): "The Fallen says they should see other people and they would never work out."
Kid: "No! We can make it work Fallen, I'll give you extra kissies and hugs and cuddles."
Me: "The Fallen says she's only in it for the kissies and the fact that he's the coolest transformer. Also, he says that he doesn't want a girlfriend."
Kid: "But I can't live without a boyfriend! You don't want me to die do you?"
Me (musing out loud): "I know way too many women out there like that..."
(Kid has her transformer kick The Fallen in the face.)
Kid got over the holidays a whole bunch of transformers, my little ponies, littlest petshops, and wall-es. So far the ponies are locked in mortal combat along with the littlest pet shops in which the only brief respite in their conquest is for group tea and birthday parties. Fortunately, and quite unlucky for them, pony years are dreadfully short for I've seen every last pony have a birthday at least three times a day a piece in between grueling battle riyals. I don't know if they have it better than the more boyish of her toys, the transformers though; they are the ones living a soap opera-like teen drama of a life.
I feel sorry for Black Arachnia, a female transformer spider. She has an unfortunate problem: She's the only girl transformers amidst a whole slue of males and unfortunately for her, it would appear the whole lot of them are all gay. It doesn't stop the girl from trying. She's dating at least two of the others now, the hussy. She's also a completely psycho girlfriend, going as far as to stalk her potential paramours relentlessly and constantly declaring her undieing "love" for them all. Poor "The Fallen", he doesn't want to date her at all. After a long day of her constantly showing up where ever he went, trying to feed him foods she knows he's allergic to, and calling him nonstop he had enough and shot her. She's an immortal crazy bizznatch however, and after he sought solace on a high up place of of bratling and subsequently Crazy Spider Lady's reach. From there she started doing illegal, under the table operations upon her recently dumped "boyfriends".
Thank god the kid's five and boys are off and on again gross or I'd be worried for them.
Get out while you still can Fallen!This amusing expert from the days play will now be written for your delight:
Kid (in best imitation girly voice): "The Fallen! I love you! We should go out now!"
Me (humoring the kid): "The Fallen says she has enough boyfriends (mutters) the hussy..."
Kid: "She's not a hussy! (back to funny girly voice) I dumped them. I only want you now Fallen, I love you."
Me (sadly amused by this): "The Fallen says they should see other people and they would never work out."
Kid: "No! We can make it work Fallen, I'll give you extra kissies and hugs and cuddles."
Me: "The Fallen says she's only in it for the kissies and the fact that he's the coolest transformer. Also, he says that he doesn't want a girlfriend."
Kid: "But I can't live without a boyfriend! You don't want me to die do you?"
Me (musing out loud): "I know way too many women out there like that..."
(Kid has her transformer kick The Fallen in the face.)
Saturday, January 3, 2009
What I Want
By now my readers have gathered from my title and description that I am an unmarried housewife. But what would it take to make this girl into a married housewife? Guys take note for I will be talking about my standards. Who knows, maybe you can bring this knowledge home to bag yourself your own unmarried housewife!
If you match this picture you win!
Step One: Have a great personality.
Yes, I love me a guy with personality. Good humor is a must, especially since, let's just face it; I'm a little weird. Charisma, intelligence, creativity, patience, and the ability to go with the flow is a given necessity. If he can make me laugh, let me know everything no matter what will be okay in the end and make me feel special, I'll be a happy girl.
Step Two: Have the will to succeed.
Any man who's going to be in it will have to have his head firmly planted on his shoulders. Wishy-washiness, a lack of effort, or laziness are traits that will not only turn me off but turn me away. That means that the guy in question will take action in life, not sit on his hands.
Step Three: Don't have more issues than me.
Let's just face it. I've known a lot of guys. They always started nice, funny, and cute. Soon enough the moment a relationship starts or shortly there after, they turn into complete freaks. If you're real messed up then seriously, save me and yourself the effort and don't even bother. I'd like to find at least one relatively normal, functional guy at some point in my young life. Seriously, how hard can it be? I'm strange enough, I want the future kids to stand some chance for semi-normalcy.
Now seeing as I just described a male of mythical proportions let's get into the spirit and take the piss out of things.
Step Four: Military men are H-O-T.
Yes, let's go with my favorite kink because I can. Fantasy man would be in the Military. Nothing quite like a well-trained, peak performance male especially in uniform to make me all giggly. I might be a complete homebody, but come on, a girl can so dream that she'll end up with a tasty man in uniform. Plus side is in theory, mister army man would have the discipline, the drive, the delectablness, and won't be completely bonkers.
Step Five: Do things for me.
Fantasy man will do nice things for me because he's nice and likes me to be happy. Small things like a phone call from work, an unexpected kiss, telling me he missed me when he's been away. Stuff like that. Small romantic things. It doesn't take extravagant things to make me feel touched. Just doing that small extra step warms my heart.
Now I know not every guy will be some hot, ripped man laying on a bed of money and slathered in chocolate and have a top end job (not that I wouldn't mind) but a girl can dream though can't she?
Now that's what I'm talking about!
After notes:
Don't take this post too seriously. It's all in good fun.
If you match this picture you win!Step One: Have a great personality.
Yes, I love me a guy with personality. Good humor is a must, especially since, let's just face it; I'm a little weird. Charisma, intelligence, creativity, patience, and the ability to go with the flow is a given necessity. If he can make me laugh, let me know everything no matter what will be okay in the end and make me feel special, I'll be a happy girl.
Step Two: Have the will to succeed.
Any man who's going to be in it will have to have his head firmly planted on his shoulders. Wishy-washiness, a lack of effort, or laziness are traits that will not only turn me off but turn me away. That means that the guy in question will take action in life, not sit on his hands.
Step Three: Don't have more issues than me.
Let's just face it. I've known a lot of guys. They always started nice, funny, and cute. Soon enough the moment a relationship starts or shortly there after, they turn into complete freaks. If you're real messed up then seriously, save me and yourself the effort and don't even bother. I'd like to find at least one relatively normal, functional guy at some point in my young life. Seriously, how hard can it be? I'm strange enough, I want the future kids to stand some chance for semi-normalcy.
Now seeing as I just described a male of mythical proportions let's get into the spirit and take the piss out of things.
Step Four: Military men are H-O-T.
Yes, let's go with my favorite kink because I can. Fantasy man would be in the Military. Nothing quite like a well-trained, peak performance male especially in uniform to make me all giggly. I might be a complete homebody, but come on, a girl can so dream that she'll end up with a tasty man in uniform. Plus side is in theory, mister army man would have the discipline, the drive, the delectablness, and won't be completely bonkers.
Step Five: Do things for me.
Fantasy man will do nice things for me because he's nice and likes me to be happy. Small things like a phone call from work, an unexpected kiss, telling me he missed me when he's been away. Stuff like that. Small romantic things. It doesn't take extravagant things to make me feel touched. Just doing that small extra step warms my heart.
Now I know not every guy will be some hot, ripped man laying on a bed of money and slathered in chocolate and have a top end job (not that I wouldn't mind) but a girl can dream though can't she?
Now that's what I'm talking about!After notes:
Don't take this post too seriously. It's all in good fun.
Friday, January 2, 2009
My Little Pony Beer Bottle
WeaselMomma made a deliciously funny post today about mini bottles of beer. I took it much too literally and visualized what a "pony" bottle would look like. Silly WeaselMomma, why hide your pony bottles behind a toaster when you can hide them in plain sight?
Yes! My Little Pony bottles for your beer. Twist the head off and drink. Every case would come with several differently posed ponies all baring their company logos. It is eco friendly! Afterall, when you're done with them, just hand them over to your darling childen to play with. With your My Little Pony bottles you won't have to hide your habit, you're drinking for your kids. Just see how happy they'll be when you finish off a round. They'd even beg you to drink your beer so they could recieve empty pony bottles.
We all know kids love packaging material so even if they've never touched any of the My Little Pony toys you've actually paid good monies for, they're sure to play endlessly with your spent bottles. The double advertisement can keep their prices low as well! Everybody wins!
- The Unmarried Housewife
P.s. Accepting partnership in all beer compaigns so long as I never have to drink the stuff.
Yes! My Little Pony bottles for your beer. Twist the head off and drink. Every case would come with several differently posed ponies all baring their company logos. It is eco friendly! Afterall, when you're done with them, just hand them over to your darling childen to play with. With your My Little Pony bottles you won't have to hide your habit, you're drinking for your kids. Just see how happy they'll be when you finish off a round. They'd even beg you to drink your beer so they could recieve empty pony bottles.We all know kids love packaging material so even if they've never touched any of the My Little Pony toys you've actually paid good monies for, they're sure to play endlessly with your spent bottles. The double advertisement can keep their prices low as well! Everybody wins!
- The Unmarried Housewife
P.s. Accepting partnership in all beer compaigns so long as I never have to drink the stuff.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
From the Flawed Logic of a Child
Over here at the Unmarried Housewife's household things have been an off and on battle to remind Kid exactly how things work. As you all may recall poor Pa has been watching the whelp whilst I cavorted about in Iowa with my sister, the Microblogologist. As you also remember, Kid became a completely wild child with my sixty something sickly Pa behind the wheels of the bratmobile.
Poor Bratling, to be five, her cherished maternal figure who was also her discipline regime, gone. How else was she to act? Too bad for her the discipline force doesn't humor her off behavior. It was not so bad whilst Microblogologist around, though Kid took it upon herself to tattle on me every time I tried to enforce something or get her to do something like... oh I don't know. Return the things she took out of my room and lost or clean up a mess she entirely made. She'd come up with the many excuses to go to the area her other auntie was in and tell on me. Oy vey.
This leads to my current punishment on Kid. Because she trashed my room, broke some of my things and lost others whilst I was away I took the computer away from her for the rest of her winter vacation. Kid logic dictates that Pa's computer, however, is free game. So after my wake up call of little clomping feet going up and down the hall reached me and I coffeed myself up to a tolerable level I came downstairs. What did my eyes see before me but Kid, on the computer, trying to call her auntie over Skype from a computer without the mic needed for such a task. With the grace that all of us dictator tyrant disciplinarians posses I addressed the issue:
Me [dignified yell]: "Kid! Stop trying to call Auntie Kee! You know that Skype's call feature doesn't work, you're just harassing Kee!"
Kid [whining]: "But I miss my Auntie Kee!"
Me [not backing down]: "So? That doesn't make that Skype work without a mic. She might not even be home."
Kid [mad]: "I want to talk to Auntie Kee!"
Me [annoyance building]: "It doesn't matter. You're still uselessly ringing her up."
Kid [whiny mad]: (repeat prior responses x3)
Me [dawning revelation]: "Wait a minute... Didn't I ground you from the computer? I did ground you from the computer!"
Kid [exasperated]: "You grounded me from my computer. This is Pa's computer."
Me [deadpan]: "Nice try. Off."
Kid [angry]: "You let me talk to my Auntie Kee right now!"
Me [amused]: "Oh?"
Kid: [makes a frustrated and whiny scream]
Me: [laughs at Kid's expense]
Kid [pulling out the big guns]: "If you don't let me talk to Auntie Kee right now I'll call you by your middle name!"
Me [humoring]: "Oh?"
Kid [satisfied malice]: "Yeah! (Uses her own middle name)!"
Me and Auntie Kee from over Skype: [dies laughing]
Eventually she'll figure out that not everyone hates their middle name or share the same one. I think I may just cry that day.
--------after notes---------
Yes, yes I am mean. It's too much fun poking fun at a kid's train of thought and Kid is an abundant resource of cheap chuckles. Kids; a gift that keeps on giving.
Poor Bratling, to be five, her cherished maternal figure who was also her discipline regime, gone. How else was she to act? Too bad for her the discipline force doesn't humor her off behavior. It was not so bad whilst Microblogologist around, though Kid took it upon herself to tattle on me every time I tried to enforce something or get her to do something like... oh I don't know. Return the things she took out of my room and lost or clean up a mess she entirely made. She'd come up with the many excuses to go to the area her other auntie was in and tell on me. Oy vey.
This leads to my current punishment on Kid. Because she trashed my room, broke some of my things and lost others whilst I was away I took the computer away from her for the rest of her winter vacation. Kid logic dictates that Pa's computer, however, is free game. So after my wake up call of little clomping feet going up and down the hall reached me and I coffeed myself up to a tolerable level I came downstairs. What did my eyes see before me but Kid, on the computer, trying to call her auntie over Skype from a computer without the mic needed for such a task. With the grace that all of us dictator tyrant disciplinarians posses I addressed the issue:
Me [dignified yell]: "Kid! Stop trying to call Auntie Kee! You know that Skype's call feature doesn't work, you're just harassing Kee!"
Kid [whining]: "But I miss my Auntie Kee!"
Me [not backing down]: "So? That doesn't make that Skype work without a mic. She might not even be home."
Kid [mad]: "I want to talk to Auntie Kee!"
Me [annoyance building]: "It doesn't matter. You're still uselessly ringing her up."
Kid [whiny mad]: (repeat prior responses x3)
Me [dawning revelation]: "Wait a minute... Didn't I ground you from the computer? I did ground you from the computer!"
Kid [exasperated]: "You grounded me from my computer. This is Pa's computer."
Me [deadpan]: "Nice try. Off."
Kid [angry]: "You let me talk to my Auntie Kee right now!"
Me [amused]: "Oh?"
Kid: [makes a frustrated and whiny scream]
Me: [laughs at Kid's expense]
Kid [pulling out the big guns]: "If you don't let me talk to Auntie Kee right now I'll call you by your middle name!"
Me [humoring]: "Oh?"
Kid [satisfied malice]: "Yeah! (Uses her own middle name)!"
Me and Auntie Kee from over Skype: [dies laughing]
Eventually she'll figure out that not everyone hates their middle name or share the same one. I think I may just cry that day.
--------after notes---------
Yes, yes I am mean. It's too much fun poking fun at a kid's train of thought and Kid is an abundant resource of cheap chuckles. Kids; a gift that keeps on giving.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Home From the Holidays
My title sounds like one of those horrible Christmas comedies that plague us come out every year doesn't it? This year when the season came along it kidnapped me for good measure. No longer am I in Iowa with my sister, the Microblogologist, but back home with the whole famn damily. The peace and quiet is gone and it's back to the regular chaos that is my world. When can I book another trip again?
No no don't take that as a horrible comment. I really did miss being in action and my bratling. Caring for my sister is quite similar but she's much lower maintenance than a five year old; sweet mercy. Alas, as many of you whelp-wranglers would know it is impossible to get used to silence when you have a kid whose job in life is to make you dread it. Things quickly become just too quiet and surrounding yourself with other sounds doesn't quite cut it. I loved me my Iowa trip something big but I missed my whelp as well. Perhaps Summer will be a promising time to combine the two worlds into one super mix.
Poor Pa, he was stuck at home sick and with kid-wrangling duties at the same time as well. You become aware of how much something was needed as soon as it's gone. He really missed me. Kid's going to readjust to having her main disciplinarian back. Poor poor whelp. Not that she minds, yet. First thing she did when I was spotted was attach herself to my leg in a death grip hug and allowed me to indulge myself in kissies and hugs and cuddles... until she remembered that she had her other Auntie right there whose far more indulgent than I am. With a prompt, "You're squishing me!" and patented Limp-Kid-Squirm she managed to escape. Mom, or GRA as we have taken to calling her learned tha I made every holiday treat that she normally makes. Such as the coveted, high demand, and always gone after a day or two, Kolackies.
Which by the way; I learned the hard way the dough needs to be cold to work with and you need to flour the table really well because this dough is a horrible horrible sticker when room temperature and yet useless when over floured. Me and my sister wanted self gratifying indulgence and seeing as these pastry/cookies are always given out to GRA's work and such we impulsively chose to make a batch ourselves in order to get maximal enjoyment. That and so we wouldn't have to share. Cookies were made as well. Triple chocolate one's, those I cheated and used a premade cookie dough for. Our final holiday goodie of choice were lemon bars. A whole pan between two women lasts a while and in the end though we tried our best, there were three bas left that did not get eaten. What a shame.
I fattened my sibling up so well that come the end of my visit she has some weight to spare. She wasn't the only thing that needed some cushie, My fluff-butts aka, the pet rabbits I have were scrawny as well come the beginning of my trip to Iowa. It was a misunderstanding in their feeding, I thought they were eating more than usual when in all reality they were eating much less. Something looked off with the two and when I pet them, sure enough they were little bags of bone. Oh dear. One tearful housewife freak out later Pa went and fetched a couple bags of pellets and their meal plan was upped considerably*. Believe me when I say this. Had I have not figured this out when I did I would be minus two pets come somewhere during the trip. This was an issue that nearly had me cancel my trip all together**. Luckily Pa is a hero and fed the two about a cup of pellets a piece per day. That's four times more than they would normally need. I checked on them first thing when I got into the house and was relieved to see they gained back all their missing weight. Thank god. I can lower their intake to half a cup now for a bit and then bring them back to a fourth***.
Maybe it's because I took my spider plants out of their diet...
Presents were dulled out not long later and kid has left a mess in the living room that I'll look into getting cleaned. Our house is usually a disaster area**** and so if I don't I just know when my housewife instincts for cleanliness overload and I go at that room with a borderline insane intent to see carpeting once more I'll find wrapping paper and toy packaging absorbed into the menagerie of mess for sure. I have no doubt in my mind that I'll be already finding all those fun plastic toys kid got from the folks via my feet as the rules of parenthood does so dictate. GRA got a cellphone, I don't know if that's a good thing or not yet. Time will tell how much I should dread her being able to call me anytime she wishes. Lucky for me she's a cheapskate. My gifts in which I received were as followed: A flask, a card from the folks filled with monies which I'll slowly spend away on my rabbits and bratling, and a remote controlled mini helicopter.
The flask has already been absconded with via my older but not the oldest sibling after she filled it with the rum she gave Pa. He didn't fill his flask yet, but like me he's always wanted one, something I find funny. The card is in a totally not at all stupid place where I'llprobably lose it be able to keep track of it. The helicopter has been flown, crashed, and entangled in bratling's hair in what was one of my better piloting moments. I didn't get any pictures of the unwrappings for this year, I'll be able to sumarize how they would have looked in this picture of Pa and GRA that features Pa doing our families' traditional hand gesture*****.
Awww Pa...
-----copying Microblogologist who copies LiteralDan's section------
*I had stopped buying the rabbit pellets for a while because the place I get my hay doesn't have the best prices for it and yet the pet store is out of the way. Something I retrospectively should not have done without supplimenting the rabbits' diet with something else first.
**The folks have a bad record when it comes to taking care of the bun-buns. Often times I come home to a disaster whenever I leave my pets in their care, making me hesitiate because of the newly added complications upping the needed care level. This time they seemed to have gotten the hang of it and things were messy but otherwise intact.
***A fourth a cup of pellets a day per five pounds worth of rabbit is the vetrinarian consensus on how much of the stuff that they really need.
****The house is magical in that witin a few days of me going to town and cleaning it completely it always finds a way to be a mess all over again to the point you can't tell I had ever cleaned it at all. Possible gremlings?
*****No.... it's so not flipping the bird. Nope. It's the one fingered salute. That's totally different. We're not completely horrible when it comes to raising Bratling!
Not helping my case any here.
No no don't take that as a horrible comment. I really did miss being in action and my bratling. Caring for my sister is quite similar but she's much lower maintenance than a five year old; sweet mercy. Alas, as many of you whelp-wranglers would know it is impossible to get used to silence when you have a kid whose job in life is to make you dread it. Things quickly become just too quiet and surrounding yourself with other sounds doesn't quite cut it. I loved me my Iowa trip something big but I missed my whelp as well. Perhaps Summer will be a promising time to combine the two worlds into one super mix.
Poor Pa, he was stuck at home sick and with kid-wrangling duties at the same time as well. You become aware of how much something was needed as soon as it's gone. He really missed me. Kid's going to readjust to having her main disciplinarian back. Poor poor whelp. Not that she minds, yet. First thing she did when I was spotted was attach herself to my leg in a death grip hug and allowed me to indulge myself in kissies and hugs and cuddles... until she remembered that she had her other Auntie right there whose far more indulgent than I am. With a prompt, "You're squishing me!" and patented Limp-Kid-Squirm she managed to escape. Mom, or GRA as we have taken to calling her learned tha I made every holiday treat that she normally makes. Such as the coveted, high demand, and always gone after a day or two, Kolackies.
Which by the way; I learned the hard way the dough needs to be cold to work with and you need to flour the table really well because this dough is a horrible horrible sticker when room temperature and yet useless when over floured. Me and my sister wanted self gratifying indulgence and seeing as these pastry/cookies are always given out to GRA's work and such we impulsively chose to make a batch ourselves in order to get maximal enjoyment. That and so we wouldn't have to share. Cookies were made as well. Triple chocolate one's, those I cheated and used a premade cookie dough for. Our final holiday goodie of choice were lemon bars. A whole pan between two women lasts a while and in the end though we tried our best, there were three bas left that did not get eaten. What a shame.I fattened my sibling up so well that come the end of my visit she has some weight to spare. She wasn't the only thing that needed some cushie, My fluff-butts aka, the pet rabbits I have were scrawny as well come the beginning of my trip to Iowa. It was a misunderstanding in their feeding, I thought they were eating more than usual when in all reality they were eating much less. Something looked off with the two and when I pet them, sure enough they were little bags of bone. Oh dear. One tearful housewife freak out later Pa went and fetched a couple bags of pellets and their meal plan was upped considerably*. Believe me when I say this. Had I have not figured this out when I did I would be minus two pets come somewhere during the trip. This was an issue that nearly had me cancel my trip all together**. Luckily Pa is a hero and fed the two about a cup of pellets a piece per day. That's four times more than they would normally need. I checked on them first thing when I got into the house and was relieved to see they gained back all their missing weight. Thank god. I can lower their intake to half a cup now for a bit and then bring them back to a fourth***.
Maybe it's because I took my spider plants out of their diet...Presents were dulled out not long later and kid has left a mess in the living room that I'll look into getting cleaned. Our house is usually a disaster area**** and so if I don't I just know when my housewife instincts for cleanliness overload and I go at that room with a borderline insane intent to see carpeting once more I'll find wrapping paper and toy packaging absorbed into the menagerie of mess for sure. I have no doubt in my mind that I'll be already finding all those fun plastic toys kid got from the folks via my feet as the rules of parenthood does so dictate. GRA got a cellphone, I don't know if that's a good thing or not yet. Time will tell how much I should dread her being able to call me anytime she wishes. Lucky for me she's a cheapskate. My gifts in which I received were as followed: A flask, a card from the folks filled with monies which I'll slowly spend away on my rabbits and bratling, and a remote controlled mini helicopter.
The flask has already been absconded with via my older but not the oldest sibling after she filled it with the rum she gave Pa. He didn't fill his flask yet, but like me he's always wanted one, something I find funny. The card is in a totally not at all stupid place where I'll
Awww Pa...-----copying Microblogologist who copies LiteralDan's section------
*I had stopped buying the rabbit pellets for a while because the place I get my hay doesn't have the best prices for it and yet the pet store is out of the way. Something I retrospectively should not have done without supplimenting the rabbits' diet with something else first.
**The folks have a bad record when it comes to taking care of the bun-buns. Often times I come home to a disaster whenever I leave my pets in their care, making me hesitiate because of the newly added complications upping the needed care level. This time they seemed to have gotten the hang of it and things were messy but otherwise intact.
***A fourth a cup of pellets a day per five pounds worth of rabbit is the vetrinarian consensus on how much of the stuff that they really need.
****The house is magical in that witin a few days of me going to town and cleaning it completely it always finds a way to be a mess all over again to the point you can't tell I had ever cleaned it at all. Possible gremlings?
*****No.... it's so not flipping the bird. Nope. It's the one fingered salute. That's totally different. We're not completely horrible when it comes to raising Bratling!
Not helping my case any here.Saturday, December 6, 2008
A Trip Back in Time ep.1
Hello friends, and welcome to the first episode of "A Trip Back in Time"!
Being stranded in Iowa whilst my sister, the Microblogologist, does her lab geek stuff and not having a bratling to occupy my time with makes an Unmarried Housewife a dull girl. You can only clean sooooo much in a day before an apartment finds itself just too clean and you're stuck with no other time-occupying cleaning. Of course usually that leads to cookie making and full course meals being planned and created but what do you think I am? Some kind of 1950's modeled housewife? Yeah I wish.
I'd so go gay for one of those... ;P
Digressing! Anyways I need a little adventure into a busy part of my rather mundane life. And so I'll listen to Mr. Peabody and entertain myself by going back in time andmessing with watch how things played out for me. Considering I went AWOL in November, we shall start there. Which event shall I choose? Why only the best, most interesting, noteworthy of things. My best friend giving birth. So come along as we make our way to the super duper, handy dandy time machine! No! Not the Way-Back Machine! Our budget isn't that high.
Get outta here guys, you're cramping my style!
I present to you live, the Time o' Tron.
Yeah we like to live it up sometimes.
Being stranded in Iowa whilst my sister, the Microblogologist, does her lab geek stuff and not having a bratling to occupy my time with makes an Unmarried Housewife a dull girl. You can only clean sooooo much in a day before an apartment finds itself just too clean and you're stuck with no other time-occupying cleaning. Of course usually that leads to cookie making and full course meals being planned and created but what do you think I am? Some kind of 1950's modeled housewife? Yeah I wish.
I'd so go gay for one of those... ;P
Digressing! Anyways I need a little adventure into a busy part of my rather mundane life. And so I'll listen to Mr. Peabody and entertain myself by going back in time and
Get outta here guys, you're cramping my style!
I present to you live, the Time o' Tron.
Yeah we like to live it up sometimes.
We're here! The date is November something-ish, 2008. And we find me in bed sleeping. It's been a late, late night and I went to bed a mere two hours prior. A knock upon the door woke me up from my slumbering and I was told of a phone message that was important. Instinctively I know nobody in their right mind calls me at this ungodly hour of seven a.m. and so it could only be one thing.
My best friend must've popped early.
I listen to the message confirming my suspicions. The poor girl after having one false labor, and then another stopped labor, has finally had a labor that was just too late to cancel. Those kids wanted out and nothing was going to stop them. I chatter away on the phone with not just my best friend but her mother and find out that it won't be until another six hours that I could go over there. Why not call me then? We shall never know...
Exhausted and sleep deprived I tried for a few more hours of sleep, something that I learned all too soon was not going to happen. My mind was too active once again, and everyone in the house just had to be as loud as possible. This included an appearance of none other than bratling who had to scream and whine at the top of her lungs, naturally. This was followed later by me waiting outside for my best friend's grandmother to go and pick me up. Bratling couldn't stand the idea of me leaving the house for anything and was giving me the most sad and pathetic faces and yowls for attention you could ever image from the window. By the time the nice lady came over I had a little girl clinging to me like a barnacle, crying for me to not go. I took one for the team and sacrificed my computer to make brat go back inside so I could go.
After a relatively pleasant ride I came upon a group of friends and family of our girl. Naturally they had to test my sleep deprived prowless by having me identify the guy in front of me. I made my guess and said something clever along the lines of, "Her brother?". I had a feeling I guessed wrong by the blanks stares. Someone corrected me, apparently he was her boyfriend...*
Oops. I did tell them I didn't really sleep. BFF was looking pretty good if I do say so myself. For someone who had a C-section and was drugged up, she was bright and perky. We did our hugs and talked and of course got to go down and see the kids. They were just the cutest things. Four pounds and change a piece, black haired, dark eyes, and I know they'll have a lovely natural tan from being Caucasian-Indian mixed. I told BFF she did such a nice job that she should make me a pair. Ha ha, it got me the stink eye and a weak, "can't laugh after a C-section" laugh.
It was probably afterwards whilst other of the family were visiting one at a time in the Infant-ICU that I noticed for the first time that the two women that earlier I had assumed were aunts, were not really aunts at all. You see, BFF doesn't want kids, and these miracle babies had managed to happen even with two forms of birth control and everything. She had considered abortion but found out soon enough that she just could not do it. So, like the movie "Juno", she went to pick out a family. I bet you know what I'm getting at now. Yes, these two women were who BFF picked out. They were nice, funny, and in general all around good people. My conservative Pa would have a cow, but seeing as I have a oddly large number of gay friends, I was not phased**.
The next set of days would be spent with me visiting daily for hours, up until bratlilng or Gra, whichever one it was, got me sick once more with the disease I'm carrying around with me now. Biohazards! The whole lot of them! By the time I get back from Iowa, the kids may just be living in their new home with their mommies. I should recommend blogging to them. How else will I be able to keep up so well with the mini-whelps? Besides my BFF of course. :)
----copying Microblogologist who copies LiteralDan section-----
*The first meeting with me and BFF's boyfriend involved a bar and me getting plastered. We're not going to admit that too openly. Oh! They're engaged now, so BFF's fiance is a more suitable term for modern reference.
**I could say at this point up to 40% of my friends are either bi or all out gay. My distinct lack of caring one way or another makes me the usual "first to come out to" girl. As such, any conversation that begins with: "I have something important to say to you" usually involves pregnancy or a sexual preference.
My best friend must've popped early.
I listen to the message confirming my suspicions. The poor girl after having one false labor, and then another stopped labor, has finally had a labor that was just too late to cancel. Those kids wanted out and nothing was going to stop them. I chatter away on the phone with not just my best friend but her mother and find out that it won't be until another six hours that I could go over there. Why not call me then? We shall never know...
Exhausted and sleep deprived I tried for a few more hours of sleep, something that I learned all too soon was not going to happen. My mind was too active once again, and everyone in the house just had to be as loud as possible. This included an appearance of none other than bratling who had to scream and whine at the top of her lungs, naturally. This was followed later by me waiting outside for my best friend's grandmother to go and pick me up. Bratling couldn't stand the idea of me leaving the house for anything and was giving me the most sad and pathetic faces and yowls for attention you could ever image from the window. By the time the nice lady came over I had a little girl clinging to me like a barnacle, crying for me to not go. I took one for the team and sacrificed my computer to make brat go back inside so I could go.
After a relatively pleasant ride I came upon a group of friends and family of our girl. Naturally they had to test my sleep deprived prowless by having me identify the guy in front of me. I made my guess and said something clever along the lines of, "Her brother?". I had a feeling I guessed wrong by the blanks stares. Someone corrected me, apparently he was her boyfriend...*
Oops. I did tell them I didn't really sleep. BFF was looking pretty good if I do say so myself. For someone who had a C-section and was drugged up, she was bright and perky. We did our hugs and talked and of course got to go down and see the kids. They were just the cutest things. Four pounds and change a piece, black haired, dark eyes, and I know they'll have a lovely natural tan from being Caucasian-Indian mixed. I told BFF she did such a nice job that she should make me a pair. Ha ha, it got me the stink eye and a weak, "can't laugh after a C-section" laugh.
It was probably afterwards whilst other of the family were visiting one at a time in the Infant-ICU that I noticed for the first time that the two women that earlier I had assumed were aunts, were not really aunts at all. You see, BFF doesn't want kids, and these miracle babies had managed to happen even with two forms of birth control and everything. She had considered abortion but found out soon enough that she just could not do it. So, like the movie "Juno", she went to pick out a family. I bet you know what I'm getting at now. Yes, these two women were who BFF picked out. They were nice, funny, and in general all around good people. My conservative Pa would have a cow, but seeing as I have a oddly large number of gay friends, I was not phased**.
The next set of days would be spent with me visiting daily for hours, up until bratlilng or Gra, whichever one it was, got me sick once more with the disease I'm carrying around with me now. Biohazards! The whole lot of them! By the time I get back from Iowa, the kids may just be living in their new home with their mommies. I should recommend blogging to them. How else will I be able to keep up so well with the mini-whelps? Besides my BFF of course. :)
----copying Microblogologist who copies LiteralDan section-----
*The first meeting with me and BFF's boyfriend involved a bar and me getting plastered. We're not going to admit that too openly. Oh! They're engaged now, so BFF's fiance is a more suitable term for modern reference.
**I could say at this point up to 40% of my friends are either bi or all out gay. My distinct lack of caring one way or another makes me the usual "first to come out to" girl. As such, any conversation that begins with: "I have something important to say to you" usually involves pregnancy or a sexual preference.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Time Machines and The Unmarried Housewife Migration
I'm so terrible putting my blog on the back burner to simmer while I went off to draw myself stupid. Naughty naughty Housewife! Well no there was more to it. I've been off and on sick, my best friend gave birth to two beautiful preemie girls whom are being adopted into a loving home and so I've been in and out of the hospital up until I got ill again, sleep deprivation took its loving toll upon me more than once*, and all in all November was a busy busy month! One of these days I'm going to have to build me up a time machine so you all can see all the amazing things** I did throughout the now gone November. Oh look at that over there! What is it?
Is that what I think it is?
Yes! A crudely made time machine! Future me must have known I would want to write about what happened to me throughout November and sent her Time o' Tron over so that I could. Aww.. and I didn't even get her a birthday card.
Well before I start making posts using my handy dandy... time machine! I have some big neato news.
The Unmarried Housewife Migration has landed me in Iowa with none other than my dear sister, the Microblogologist! Cheers everybody! See she visited during the mysterious and amazing month of November for thanksgiving and I joined her on the trip back to her home. So far so good, I did my housewifely duties and cleaned up a bit and set up my computer to laze about on. She's out doing her water dancing now. Then I shall enjoy my lunch***. We figure each others' company will help restore our sanities that have been dwindling for a while now. Goodness knows I just knew I had to come back and keep my sweet sister company right about when I saw her toting around a laminated picture of a person as her one and only companion. I think she was talking to it and everything.**** Seems I'll have my work cut out for me...
Oi vey.
----copying Microblogologist who copies Literal Dan----
*When I get colds and other respiratory issues I lose my ability to sleep. It causes me to randomly crash and sleep for hours.
**Amazing things differ from person to person. Please, ask your doctor if Amazing Things are right for you.
***I slept up until 5 pm when I got here. I label my meals numerically not by the time they occur. Other people eat lunch or dinner about when I can have "breakfast."
****It was the FlatWeaselMomma project, not my sister really going insane. Or is she? Dun dun duuunnnnn
Is that what I think it is?
Yes! A crudely made time machine! Future me must have known I would want to write about what happened to me throughout November and sent her Time o' Tron over so that I could. Aww.. and I didn't even get her a birthday card.
Well before I start making posts using my handy dandy... time machine! I have some big neato news.
The Unmarried Housewife Migration has landed me in Iowa with none other than my dear sister, the Microblogologist! Cheers everybody! See she visited during the mysterious and amazing month of November for thanksgiving and I joined her on the trip back to her home. So far so good, I did my housewifely duties and cleaned up a bit and set up my computer to laze about on. She's out doing her water dancing now. Then I shall enjoy my lunch***. We figure each others' company will help restore our sanities that have been dwindling for a while now. Goodness knows I just knew I had to come back and keep my sweet sister company right about when I saw her toting around a laminated picture of a person as her one and only companion. I think she was talking to it and everything.**** Seems I'll have my work cut out for me...
Oi vey.
----copying Microblogologist who copies Literal Dan----
*When I get colds and other respiratory issues I lose my ability to sleep. It causes me to randomly crash and sleep for hours.
**Amazing things differ from person to person. Please, ask your doctor if Amazing Things are right for you.
***I slept up until 5 pm when I got here. I label my meals numerically not by the time they occur. Other people eat lunch or dinner about when I can have "breakfast."
****It was the FlatWeaselMomma project, not my sister really going insane. Or is she? Dun dun duuunnnnn
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Treats and Trouble
Halloween was a hit! Kid got her candy and my diet took a few steps back as I valiantly searched through Brat's candy for anything possibly dangerous. Bratling turned the tides on me and then started inspecting the candy too "just to make sure". We fail at this system because eating the candy to make sure it's not deadly or poisonous defeats the purpose of keeping each other safe. She was such a doll. Look at that little princess!
I'm glad this year did so well, last year didn't last two blocks before Kid wanted to go home. Then again you'd not want to keep going with the company we were with. Few days later Bratling took a dump on one of the offending parties coats. Lovely...
Nothing could stop the kid this year. The promise of all the candy you can get was too great and she was careening down the sidewalks as fast as she could get us to go. Pa and I decided soon enough she could go down the driveways by herself and ring the bells so long as we could see the door. We've gone to all these houses before for years and so we know them enough. I especially pick the old folks houses, seeing cute kids make their day.
No driveway was safe from the trampling of little kid feet either. Not even this one which Pa and I wisely hung back from going down and opted for just hanging out at the beginning. Those houses always give mucho candy for the effort.
After Halloween has been a wee ip more touchy. Remember in the last post I mentioned kid being a Biohazard. Well one of the members of our household got sick from Bratling and now has acute frontal lobe pneumonia. Joys. She lived through the night and was up and about this morning saving me the effort of poking her with a stick. Now kid's going in to the doctor just now to find out if she's kicking with anything bad too. That cough just does not want to go away. Pa and I are on the tail end of it now where I'm not so miserable and the cough's a minor nuisance.
It took one heck of a bribe to get kid to agree to go to the Doctor without a fuss. Yet again I'm pleased she's a gamer in training. She gets to play my new game, "Tasty Planet" upon completion of taking one for the health team. Score another for letting kid play video games!
I recommend "Tasty Planet" by the way. It's cute, fun, and challenging. Here's a trailer below. Little wonder kid loves watching me play it so:
I'm glad this year did so well, last year didn't last two blocks before Kid wanted to go home. Then again you'd not want to keep going with the company we were with. Few days later Bratling took a dump on one of the offending parties coats. Lovely...
Nothing could stop the kid this year. The promise of all the candy you can get was too great and she was careening down the sidewalks as fast as she could get us to go. Pa and I decided soon enough she could go down the driveways by herself and ring the bells so long as we could see the door. We've gone to all these houses before for years and so we know them enough. I especially pick the old folks houses, seeing cute kids make their day.
No driveway was safe from the trampling of little kid feet either. Not even this one which Pa and I wisely hung back from going down and opted for just hanging out at the beginning. Those houses always give mucho candy for the effort.
After Halloween has been a wee ip more touchy. Remember in the last post I mentioned kid being a Biohazard. Well one of the members of our household got sick from Bratling and now has acute frontal lobe pneumonia. Joys. She lived through the night and was up and about this morning saving me the effort of poking her with a stick. Now kid's going in to the doctor just now to find out if she's kicking with anything bad too. That cough just does not want to go away. Pa and I are on the tail end of it now where I'm not so miserable and the cough's a minor nuisance.
It took one heck of a bribe to get kid to agree to go to the Doctor without a fuss. Yet again I'm pleased she's a gamer in training. She gets to play my new game, "Tasty Planet" upon completion of taking one for the health team. Score another for letting kid play video games!
I recommend "Tasty Planet" by the way. It's cute, fun, and challenging. Here's a trailer below. Little wonder kid loves watching me play it so:
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Biohazard Bratling and Play D'oh
Why is it whenever I get sick the top of my list of disease spreading suspects ends up being Bratling? Probably because kids are just as bad as rats carrying the plague only they're much cuter. I'm a gullible creature by nature. When I hear a kid sniffling I don't quite equate it to them being sick and so when Bratling went to kindergarten and brought back more than just crayon drawings I didn't think anything about it.
More kisses from a snuffly kid? Yes please!
It's not that they just give you diseases. No. It's the fact that kids make it their job to spread their ailments all around that makes them such hazardous creatures to your health. It doesn't help the fact that Bratling is shoving varying things into her mouth lately. Yesterday I got on her case when I caught her chewing on a quarter. It gave "Gra" (that's grandma to the rest of you) a heart attack. As sure as the sun rises if it's something that comes in contact with her hands, it'll end up in her mouth. Bratling touches a gross surface, she then puts her fingertips in her mouth. Little wonder she is always dragging home new diseases. My immune system always ends up getting a workout with her around that's for sure.
I should label the kid with one of these.
Brat has a new favorite thing ever; Play-Doh. Yes, that nasty colored clay in a jar. I'm probably only saying that because Bratling has a love of mooshing the stuff into the carpeting. Not on purpose but it ends up on the floor and under her feet very easily. I'll take a shot in the dark and say that her shoes are coated in the muck right now. On the plus, she'll play with her Play-Doh for hours and hours on end and inevitably it dries up so I can get rid of it. For the price the crap costs that's a good investment. I keep getting handed long snake shaped clay pieces with demands that I transform them into varying animals for Bratling to moosh, cut up, and in general bring to a gory demise. I'm playing with the stuff almost as much as her from that.
The best was last night when we made a headcrab from half-life 2 and then a person. Naturally that quickly turned into a headcrab zombie for the kid to have walk about and enjoy. That's so incredibly cute. I got a gamer at the ripe age of five who's got a good taste in games. It brings tears to my eyes to pass on that torch. God I'm such abad awesome influence. I don't see many other kindergartners with these do you?
That is so cool.
Extra credit points for those of you who can tell me how to get the crap out of my carpeting.
More kisses from a snuffly kid? Yes please!
It's not that they just give you diseases. No. It's the fact that kids make it their job to spread their ailments all around that makes them such hazardous creatures to your health. It doesn't help the fact that Bratling is shoving varying things into her mouth lately. Yesterday I got on her case when I caught her chewing on a quarter. It gave "Gra" (that's grandma to the rest of you) a heart attack. As sure as the sun rises if it's something that comes in contact with her hands, it'll end up in her mouth. Bratling touches a gross surface, she then puts her fingertips in her mouth. Little wonder she is always dragging home new diseases. My immune system always ends up getting a workout with her around that's for sure.
I should label the kid with one of these.
Brat has a new favorite thing ever; Play-Doh. Yes, that nasty colored clay in a jar. I'm probably only saying that because Bratling has a love of mooshing the stuff into the carpeting. Not on purpose but it ends up on the floor and under her feet very easily. I'll take a shot in the dark and say that her shoes are coated in the muck right now. On the plus, she'll play with her Play-Doh for hours and hours on end and inevitably it dries up so I can get rid of it. For the price the crap costs that's a good investment. I keep getting handed long snake shaped clay pieces with demands that I transform them into varying animals for Bratling to moosh, cut up, and in general bring to a gory demise. I'm playing with the stuff almost as much as her from that.
The best was last night when we made a headcrab from half-life 2 and then a person. Naturally that quickly turned into a headcrab zombie for the kid to have walk about and enjoy. That's so incredibly cute. I got a gamer at the ripe age of five who's got a good taste in games. It brings tears to my eyes to pass on that torch. God I'm such a
That is so cool.
Extra credit points for those of you who can tell me how to get the crap out of my carpeting.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Caffeinated Addict
It's official, I've been given the title of "Junkie". It's all down hill from here. What terrible substance do I abuse myself with? What horrible secret addiction do I carry? What puts me into withdrawal symptoms and causes ungodly amounts of agitation in me when I don't get my fix?
Coffee. Also lovingly known as hot bean juice.
It was just the other day that Bratling and I were having our fun on the computer, my sweet nerd sister, the Microblogologist, on Skype's voice chat. When the headaches occurred. Ever had a withdrawal headache? They suck. It was either the pain or another symptom showing but I became the grouchiest crab in that instant and brat's every kid-thing suddenly grated on my nerves heavily. Naturally this means a trip to the coffee pot. That kitchen oasis of life that brings forth the hot bean juice I desperately need. As it brewed and I gawked at the slow slow trickling stream of coffee just not coming out fast enough I realized that this beverage is slowly taking over my life. What next? Turning tricks behind the back of a Starbucks for the needed shot of a double espresso?
I should quit! I should go upstairs now and dump that wretched stuff down the drain and check myself into rehab for my highly over exaggerated problem. Suffer through the pains of caffeine withdrawal locked away in my room and only come out once I'm cured then never touch the stuff again.
Then again, I'd rather not. It is after all a lot better for you than you might think as lovingly documented here:
Coffee. Also lovingly known as hot bean juice.
It was just the other day that Bratling and I were having our fun on the computer, my sweet nerd sister, the Microblogologist, on Skype's voice chat. When the headaches occurred. Ever had a withdrawal headache? They suck. It was either the pain or another symptom showing but I became the grouchiest crab in that instant and brat's every kid-thing suddenly grated on my nerves heavily. Naturally this means a trip to the coffee pot. That kitchen oasis of life that brings forth the hot bean juice I desperately need. As it brewed and I gawked at the slow slow trickling stream of coffee just not coming out fast enough I realized that this beverage is slowly taking over my life. What next? Turning tricks behind the back of a Starbucks for the needed shot of a double espresso?
I should quit! I should go upstairs now and dump that wretched stuff down the drain and check myself into rehab for my highly over exaggerated problem. Suffer through the pains of caffeine withdrawal locked away in my room and only come out once I'm cured then never touch the stuff again.
Then again, I'd rather not. It is after all a lot better for you than you might think as lovingly documented here:
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Cuppy Cake Horror Survival
Seeing as I don't think I have a post yet about something other than the whelps shenanigans let me go on and give you all a sweet little glimpse at one of the things that bring me such great joy in life. Video games. Yes! I am an admitted gamer. FPSs, Sims, Dumb Pet games, Fighting, Adventure, Puzzle (though they make me feel dumb), Old-School DOS! Give me a game and I'll play it. Except sports and racing, I was never really into those. My current old school piece of goodness game that I'm playing through is the original Silent Hill, my first horror survival game. How do those work? You try to get through and live in these games that like to startle you, scare you and in general make you freak out if you play the games late at night and in the dark by yourself.
Silent Hill is one of those few games I won't play in front of the kid. Surprisingly so, considering I normally play my horrible games whilst Bratling watches and cheers me on (Yes I am expecting some negative comments for that one). In my justification for my bad parenting skills I'll have to tell you: Kid's cartoons effect her drastically where as even my worst game has yet to make any impact on Whelpling's psych. I also figure she'll be blaming me for enough crap come teenagerdom so being the cool parental-esque figure who let's her enjoy a nasty video game form time to time isn't going to be at the top of the list of problems she'll be whining about. Reality around here, the older folks play games and so long as Bratling doesn't start trying to reenact her gaming experiences I'm cool with it. I've raised her so far playing these games and instilled in her that games are not real, you don't do the bad things in games in real life, and we don't talk about gaming to everyone. Those really are the biggest bases to cover.
Gaming around here is like Fight Club. Rule number one, we don't talk about gaming.
It's a taboo, I'll admit it. There was even a time I insisted on not touching a game rated over E when she was around but it was making her more upset than anything. Now after kindergarten I get a little kid running up to me happily saying, "I was good at school today like you said. Let's play Painkiller! I get to shoot this time and kill the monsters though." Awww... warms my heart.
Anyhoo, I digressed. Silent Hill I don't touch near the kid for probably only the singular reason that she drives me nuts whilst playing it. "The little girl's name is YOUR name Auntie! DO you hear static? Is there a monster? You must be hearing static! Hurry you got to save your little girl self!"
Oi, that's a horror game mood killer. Then again so is playing the "Cuppy Cake" song on loop whilst I'm playing the game but I keep doing that too. Oh well, I guess there really aren't any games I won't play around that kid. God I'm a bad influence...
Silent Hill is one of those few games I won't play in front of the kid. Surprisingly so, considering I normally play my horrible games whilst Bratling watches and cheers me on (Yes I am expecting some negative comments for that one). In my justification for my bad parenting skills I'll have to tell you: Kid's cartoons effect her drastically where as even my worst game has yet to make any impact on Whelpling's psych. I also figure she'll be blaming me for enough crap come teenagerdom so being the cool parental-esque figure who let's her enjoy a nasty video game form time to time isn't going to be at the top of the list of problems she'll be whining about. Reality around here, the older folks play games and so long as Bratling doesn't start trying to reenact her gaming experiences I'm cool with it. I've raised her so far playing these games and instilled in her that games are not real, you don't do the bad things in games in real life, and we don't talk about gaming to everyone. Those really are the biggest bases to cover.
Gaming around here is like Fight Club. Rule number one, we don't talk about gaming.
It's a taboo, I'll admit it. There was even a time I insisted on not touching a game rated over E when she was around but it was making her more upset than anything. Now after kindergarten I get a little kid running up to me happily saying, "I was good at school today like you said. Let's play Painkiller! I get to shoot this time and kill the monsters though." Awww... warms my heart.
Anyhoo, I digressed. Silent Hill I don't touch near the kid for probably only the singular reason that she drives me nuts whilst playing it. "The little girl's name is YOUR name Auntie! DO you hear static? Is there a monster? You must be hearing static! Hurry you got to save your little girl self!"
Oi, that's a horror game mood killer. Then again so is playing the "Cuppy Cake" song on loop whilst I'm playing the game but I keep doing that too. Oh well, I guess there really aren't any games I won't play around that kid. God I'm a bad influence...
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