sirsholly - photo 1

!!!!!Happily married to my Master!!!!!

I am here for the forums and the friends...

Best of luck in your journey!!!

~My beloved is mine, and I am his~
- song of solomon2:6
3/12/2012 8:10:30 AM

Sooo....typical day. Hubby left the kitchen windows open while he took a  nap to recover from an exhausting morning of slumber. The thunderstorm that failed to wake his snoring ass soaked the walls, curtains, floor, and one highly pissed off cat.
 Guess who got to clean it up?
 Then....i went to the kids school to help sling slop. The regular kitchen staff (an awesome Italian lady) is on a vacation so four (yes...four. Shuddup) of us attempted to do her job. I was in charge of the veggies. The  veggie of the day was green beans. The canned kind. I plugged in the can opener, drained, heated, buttered and served. The kids HATED them. Come on...they're freakin' beans!! 
 So...I got home (in the downpour) carefully wiped my feet on the welcome mat that says "Come back with a  warrant", and immediately stepped in cat barf. Before i knew it, i was  slip-sliding my way across the living room, tracking puke over the  majority of the carpet. I cussed rather loudly and hubby either ignored my bellowing ass or... "or" about it. He ignored my bellowing ass.
 Once the floor and the vomit were cleaned up and the Fabreeze was sprayed to my satisfaction, i realized it was time to feed the LoudOnes horse. He likes oats (the horse...not the LoudOne). He likes oats in a bucket. A galvanized bucket. Don't ask me why it has to be galvanized. I do not speak Horse and saw no real need to delve into his psyche. I mean...come on...this ain't Mr. Ed.
  So...i put on the Wellington boots that i failed to bring in the night before. I also failed to dump the several inches of rather cold rain water out before putting them on. That freakin water was freezing, causing me to cuss...again. Need i tell you Jim ignored me...again?
  So...bucket of oats in hand, i slosh my ass to the pasture to feed the beast. He saw me coming and stood patiently away from the gate so i could fiddle with the silly assed lock Jim installed and swears works  perfectly...or would if i knew the proper way to jiggle the silly thing. After a few moments of cussing and jiggling, jiggling and cussing (more cussing than jiggling, i would say) and being ignored by hubby (surprise!) i did the usual and hauled my ass up and over the split-rail fence. 
Y'all know this is not going to end well, don't ya? should ALWAYS be careful when one vaults a fence in a pasture following a thunderstorm, since the resulting mud can bear a striking resemblance to horse poop. Also, one should NEVER jump off of the top rail without looking at what one was jumping into (shuddup).  And an think cat puke is slippery? It can't hold a manure-scented candle to the travel power supplied by horse shit. 
 Amazingly, when i landed on my ass (in a less than dignified position) i did not spill the oats (i would call that a previously undiscovered talent.) Another thing i did not do was get up, because the moronic horse hoofed it over and stuck his head in the bucket i was holding on my lap. And in case you're wondering...telling a horse to hurry the fuck up will NOT result in a faster intake of his nutritional supplement.
I was a wee bit annoyed at this point, but why bother cussing? It's not like anyone would listen to me.

 So...i felt a shower might be in order but needed to hose off before heading into the house. I dreaded this because we have a well and lemme  tell ya... that well water is freezing. But...trooper that i am... i fearlessly turned on the hose and.........where in the hell was the water? Nothing. Nada. I felt the hose vibrate a little so there WAS water in the well (thank goodness) and experience told me it should be squirting out of the nozzle thingy i was holding. 
 Then i noticed the nozzle thingy was twisted on rather strangely. Strangely as in i TOLD the LoudOne he is not to play with the hose EVER but does he listen to me? NOOOOooooooooo.....
 nobody does.
 So...i unscrew the nozzle and realize almost immediately what the problem was (You might want to pay attention as this may be information you need one day). It seems when a five year old crams a pine cone into a hose, the hose will not function.
 I did not think this was cute.

 Okay.....i got a pair of needle nosed pliers from the toolbox Jim swears he will use someday and began the extraction. Just a slight tug was all it took for the water pressure to send that puppy flying with the speed of a SCUD missile. It must have been my lucky day because it missed putting my eye out by at least 2-3  centimeters. Unfortunately the valve hickey (the red thing i should have closed before the pine cone removal) was opened all the way, causing the hose to dance around like a cobra on meth.
I was not amused in the least.
  So...i clean up outside...make a mental note to put the LoudOne in time-out until he is in his late 70's...annnnd head into the house for a warm shower with plenty of soap. Thanks to the squeaky old hardwood floors it can be necessary to tip-toe down the hallway in the event someone (Jim) is sleeping. I wanted to know if tip-toeing was necessary so i quietly opened the bedroom door and bellowed "YA UP YET????????!!!!"
I hate it when he wakes up grumpy....sheeeesh.

12/13/2010 10:37:03 AM is that time of year again. Amid the joyous cheer of the festive holiday celebration lies the dreaded....CHRISTMAS PROGRAM.

This year i am trying to work with 18 preschoolers. They are a joy on an individual basis, but put their little butts in a group and the fucking joy goes right out the window. I am terrorized by the little shits, but a stoic front must be presented or they will chew me up and spit me out, and my kid would be the head chomper.

Now...two years ago the LoudOne was a Shepherd. He looked so darn cute in his shepherding duds, but he was banned from that role when we saw just what havoc he could cause with a shepherds staff. He took out his fellow sheep herders, slammed the costumed donkey in the ass, and nearly beheaded the Virgin Mary.

The following year he was an angel. He looked so...angelic...until he upchucked grape Koolaid on his angel gown, then tried to clean it up with Baby Jesus's swaddling clothes.

This year...oh the thrill of getting to report that he has the lead in the play "The King of Kings." He is the King. The head dude. He is God. He is also the only one that fit into the costume, but that is beside the point. He is as proud of himself as he could possibly be, and only slightly less proud than is his mommy. That is..until the dress rehearsal this morning.

The play is sweet. It is the manger scene with Mary, Joseph, the wise men, shepherds, et al, and the closing is the entrance of the King of Kings (God, played by the LoudOne). The end of the play is God smiling down on the flocks, pleased that they are celebrating the birth of His son. God is to raise his pudgy little arms halfway, in a gesture of praise. That is what was SUPPOSED to happen. That is what SHOULD have happened. That is what WOULD have happened if the role was given to someone else's kid. But NOOOOooooooo....

The spotlight (a high powered flashlight that some poor dad is really going to miss during the next power failure) shines on the King of Kings, waiting for him to smile gently, raise his arms slightly, and look serene. That is what the script said.

My kid thought the script needed a rewrite.

The spotlight was focused on him, and the arms went up...and up...and up. Annnnnd the feet started to move. Get a mental image, if you will, of Rocky Balboa after racing up the stairs at the Philadelphia Museum of Art...hands over his head and jumping up and down in a victory dance. The LoudOne did add his own personal touch to the God/Rocky shuffle, and that was bellowing "GO ME!!" right before someone had the sense to turn off the spotlight. The little dude was so into his role that his golden crown slipped down over his eyes, causing temporary blindness which resulted in the other 17 pipsqueaks running for cover. They made it to safety right before the LoudOne tripped over a hay bale and landed dangerously close to the Star of Bethlehem.

His teacher, who is an awesome lady and as unflappable as they come, put her head down on the piano and...shook? I felt terrible that, after 30 years of teaching, the poor woman was reduced to tears by my offspring. But, as it turns out, she was laughing so hard she was on the verge of falling off of her chair.

There are two more dress rehearsals prior to the big event.

Send help.


11/25/2010 6:04:41 AM

Have a happy and safe holiday everyone! There is SO much to be thankful for...

7/16/2010 3:12:55 AM

I admit i was thrilled that the LoudOne actually listened to The Concert in Central Park and was loving Simon and Garfunkel (aka Shrimpy and the Hair). My baby was ROCKIN' OUT to The Boxer! I mean...dayyyy-um, he got down with his BAD self!

Myyyyy boy!!

'Course...for those of you unfortunates who don't know the words...

Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Lie la lie ...

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

Lie la lie ...

Then he stopped the BabyBoogie to ask "Mommm...whassa whore?"

I admit i told him Paul Simon has a lisp and was really saying "horse".

oh shaddup...what the hell would YOU have said?
6/3/2010 4:00:52 AM
The truest definition of StuckOnStupid is offering to run a dress rehearsal for eight 3yr olds ready to sing "The Bee And Me" at the parents-night program. They were all dressed as little wee bees with little wee wings and hats with little stingers.

Letting them have the hats was a mistake.

The only thing they had to do was line up and sing. Thats it. I did not ask them to stand at freakin' attention. I did not ask them to stand in a straight line. I did not even ask them not to sing off-key. All i wanted the pint-sized poops to do was line up and sing, damnit!

But NOOOOOOoooooooo.

They choose to ignore the one-armed crazy lady who was trying not to cuss, because it was way more enjoyable to take off their hats and jab each other in the butt with the attached stingers.

So...after several good jabs resulted in several bent stingers, i wised the hell up and made them hand over the hats...and hand them over FAST.

So...back to the fucking bumblebee song. But NOOOOOOOoooooo.

The issue now? I had a stage full of eight highly pissed off 3 yr olds who had no intention of following the directions of the one who caused their enjoyment to be shot in the ass (no pun intended). They just stood there with their little arms folded across their chests (except for the third kid on the right who had his index finger crammed up his nose).

I was in the process of taking yet another deep breath when a teeny tiny 2 yr old wandered onto the stage. The child was simply adorable, dressed as a thundercloud and leaving a trail of cloud-fuzz in his wake. He decided to rest his fluffy tush on the end of the stage...plopping down to take a load off. Fine. I was busy with the bumblebee crap and really didn't pay any more attention to him.

That was a mistake.

The little thundercloud suddenly decided he was bored with sitting, picking and spitting out cloud-fuzz. So.. he turned his attention to the silver lightening bolt he carried. Actually i should say he DIVIDED his attention between the lightening bolt and the rump of the bee closest to him. That particular bee just so happened to be my son.

Yanno...keep your eyes open to your children and you will learn something new about them on a daily basis. Todays discovery is that the LoudOne does not appreciate a whack in the tush with a lightening bolt. Nope...not one bit.

So...since the boys were finally singing that ridiculous song (and the third kid on the right finally got whatever he was fishing for) i quietly headed to the opposite end of the stage to remove the lighting bolt from Mr. Cloud and send him on his rainy way. But NOOOOOOOOoooooo... i was too slow. While i was busy noting the booger-picker completed his mission, the LoudOne reached behind him and removed his bee wings. He then took the wings and slapped the thundercloud upside the head. Of course this was noticed by the other seven, who were rather dismayed that they themselves did not realize they could beat the snot out of each other with their own wings. This situation was quickly remedied, wings were torn off and the free-for-all began.

6/1/2010 2:25:32 PM
So...i was on a mission to clean the freaking basement floor. It is cement, as are the walls. Very, very solid cement....the kind that hurts when you challenge it to a game of SmashFace  from the top of the stairs (Score: Cement 1...Holly 0). Anyhoo...its pretty obvious why i wanted to clean it...i mean...ew. The "ew" factor overrode the fact that i have one usable arm and a head injury that keeps me dizzy.  It also overrode all aspects of common sense. comes me...carrying a bucket, a bottle of cleaning stuff that will make you puke if you snort it, a few towels, Jims toothbrush, and a mop.

Annnd...there goes me.... tripping over the freaking mop handle. Luckily, i was next to the washer when the mop attacked. Lots of laundry breeds down there, making landing rather comfy... so seriously injuring yourself is not possible (except this is ME we are talking about and i didn't land on the comfy laundry and just keep the wise-ass comments to yourselves and stop picking on me, damnit).

Now it is summer, hot, and i have a bunch of fucking flowers planted outside that need lots of water. To keep the well from running dry i collect the washers rinse water in one on those 3 ft deep plastic drums. The drum was nearly full because, while i will conserve by saving water, i'll be damned if i am lugging that shit up the stairs and ouside to the silly assed flowers. Nope...that what hoses are for. Screw the well. or both feet become securely tangled in the clutches of Mopzilla (One for sure. The one i broke when i fell down the stairs. Yep...THAT one). I tried to stop falling forward because landing on my fractured collarbone and broken arm would have pissed me off. Pissy-mood prevention compelled me to over-correct in the other direction...flying backwards with my usual grace and dignity (oh shuddup) and landing...(i swear to God i am not making this up....COULD NOT make this up if i tried) ass first into the water-filled 3 ft drum.

Needless to say..i sunk (and it has nothing to do with the size of my ass so will you PLEASE stop picking on me?). ass went down, the arm that was not in a sling was hooked over the side, and my lower legs were sticking straight up, looking like a ten-toed peace sign. Go ahead and get a mental image of this (but i WILL consider it picking on me if you laugh) because once you see it in your mind, you can easily realize the next problem..


There was no way in hell i was getting out of there like a normal person would (shaddup...i'm normal, damnit. I AM!). With the top of the drum digging into my armpit, i used my one usable arm to grab the only thing i could reach (the washer lid) and pulled for all i was worth.....annnd off it came. But my goal was achieved (truthfully i HAD no goal...but i had to get the hell out of there before Jim came home, as this would be one of those things he would never allow me to live down). The drum tipped over, releasing hundreds of gallons of water all over the floor, and spilling me, washer lid in hand, out with it.

So...the basement is still not clean. S'matter of fact, it is flooded at the moment, with many many loads of wet laundry floating around. The basement steps are pretty wet, because i had to slosh my dripping self up here as fast as i could before the mop attacked again.

Those stairs are pretty slick when they get wet. I better tell Jim to be careful when he goes down there to get his toothbrush.
4/23/2010 8:48:02 AM
This is Holly's husband Jim.

Holly is out of ICU and doing great. There is no doubt she will be fine. Thank you for all the positive thoughts and prayers!
4/1/2010 12:30:34 PM
So...last night we dyed Easter eggs. I was SO prepared. I had the table covered, the different colors of dyes ready and waiting for pudgy three year old hands...annnnd the egg decorating kit that has the stickers to make different silly faces, complete with various colors of fuzz that one super glues onto the dyed/stickered-up pass for hair, i suppose.

Once the eggs, hands, clothing and Hubby were all dyed, it was time to decorate.Yeehaw. I took great care in explaining to the LoudOne that superglue is NOT to be handled by anyone other than Mommy, as it can cause severe skin irritation, and in rare cases, damage to the hands when some knucklehead accidentally glues their fingers together.

The kid was having a blast...exerting and demonstrating his advancing level of creativity and impressing good ol' Mom. He WOULD have impressed good ol' Dad too, but that was not possible. For, you see, 10 minutes after the creative egg decorating began, Daddy/Hubby found his ass on the way to the drug store to get a bottle of nail polish remover. Seems nail polish remover is the only thing recommended when Mommy super glues 3 of her 4 fingers to a hard boiled egg.

oh could have happened to anyone...

3/27/2010 7:44:35 AM
To everyone that opened your arms and your heart, please know your kindness means the world and is instrumental in getting us through a very bad time.

Love You Guys

Jim and holly
1/23/2010 4:09:50 AM
The cell from hell was returned last night. The fact that it is called a Droid should say it all. It is a freakin' alien of a phone and no mere mortal and/or sane human being can figure out how to work the damn thing. The friendly folks at Verizon knew how to work it, which means Verizon employees are not normal. In fact.. i am sure they are all a result of Rozwell, NM...the spacecraft that crashed, burned, and spewed forth pods that Verizon bought, hatched and hired.

Sad, lemmetellya.

So...i stood there in my finest Techno-Dolt form and told them i needed a NORMAL phone. Something that, when it rings, does not require looking like a boob pushing every freakin' button trying to answer and/or shut it the fuck up. When the ringing actually did stop it was not because of anything i did, but because the fool on the other end got sick of waiting for me to answer the unanswerable, leading me to believe i actually had hit the right button and was connected to their silly ass, standing there in public bellowing "Can you hear me now???"

The pod hatchlings stood patiently and listened. They were not being polite, as they want you to think. They were observing. Pod hatchlings want to beam up the best and brightest Earthlings to study. I saw every bloomin one of them cross my name off of their list.. That is fine. I never did like to fly. All i wanted was a phone.

One of the problems with this type of did not have a keyboard. No...the hatchlings did not forget to put one was MEANT to be that way. The hatchlings wanted to study us humans as we react to a virtual keypad. They wanted to see and mimic the facial reactions of a normal person who tries to text on a fingertouch pad with keys the size of grains of rice and fingers the size of hot dogs. If you see a pissed off Verizon employee with an expression that can cause little old ladies to load their Depends... it is a safe bet they were the ones that were observing my face as i tried to work hell's cell.

Anyhoo.....they sold me another Droid (shaddup)

This one does have a keypad, which made me rather happy. The addition of the actual keys cost an additional 100.00 which really pissed off the hubby....or it would, if i remember to mention it to him. I am fairly sure the hatchlings erased my memory, because thus far i have failed to recall that small fact. (I feel fairly sure the hatchlings also programmed me to preform excessive shopping on EBay as well. I am sure hubby will understand my innocence in this matter)

I can now connect to the internet via my phone...or i will. I can also answer calls...shortly. I can write texts that are typo free...and will figure out how to send the damn things soon.
1/20/2010 12:02:59 PM
the battle of the SMARTphone is coming to an end.

  I am winning.

I finally figured how to get the damn thing charged. But, life always throws you a curve. In order to properly charge the fucking thing, one must first install the battery. I had no clue how to open it to cram in the stooopid battery. It required a call to the Tech Support team.

The call was made.... the phone was opened.....the battery crammed.

It is charging as we speak.

I still have no freakin clue how to work it.....but the battery is in.

I feel rather victorious.
1/10/2010 7:00:53 AM
Geez am i fucked.

My cell phone is on its last leg. The trouble started when the LoudOne used it to take a pic of me (oh shaddup) then dropped it on the sidewalk. The catalyst was when our attorney needed to talk to me and couldn't leave a voice mail because my mail box was full. My mailbox was totally empty (i tried to leave a message from our land line and got the recording too). So...time to cash in on the upgrade stuff.

I am so fucked.

I decided to do this via phone and the internet, as phone shopping with a pissy three year old leads to a pissy Mommy. I decided on an iphone for two reasons: they are cool looking, they connect to the internet, and they have a GPS system (ok..thats three....shoot me). Plus, it is my birthday and i wanted it, damnit. The GSP thingy is rather important, because i am getting fed up with my backseat passenger bellowing "Ya lost again, Mommy?". I figured i could hold up the iphone while explaining the technology of an advanced navigation system, turning around to show him the function which prevents me from getting lost, and rear ending a semi when the kid grabs the phone out of my hand and i have to fight with his little ass to get the damn thing back.

So...armed with the information, i called Verizon. Buuuuut...AT&T makes the iphone. Phooey. The sales rep i was talking with told me the name of their version of the iphone, so i looked it up and found that it also looked cool. It had everything the iphone did, came with a rebate and a free cheapo phone that i will give to Hubby for Christmas, and did i mention it looked cool?

The rep explained the bells and whistles, and the extra 30.00 charge that will appear on our phone bill every month for using a Smartphone. I didn't expect the additional charge, but it is offset by how cool it is to own a SMARTphone. Smart people own smart phones. Dumbasses own the cheapo phones that a smart person gets for free when they buy a smart phone (And no...i did not just call Hubby a dumbass. He does not yet own the cheapo phone. It's a Christmas gift, remember?)  I figured my IQ jumped by ten points as soon as the old credit card was debited. Actually...i FELT my IQ jump. Imagine having a pissed off hornet fly in one ear and out the other. That what a sudden rise in the IQ feels like. Those of you who own SMARTphones understand, no doubt.

Despite my suddenly high IQ...i am seriously fucked.

I asked the rep if i had any allotted time frame in which i could call and change and/or cancel...insinuating i was going to do further research on the phone and compare the technology with other phones (total bullshit. I was worried about Hubby finding out what i paid for the damn thing). The answer was no...once the deal was done, there was not an option to change it.

*head meets desk* I am soooo fucked.

So...later in the day i got around to opening the confirmation e-mail from the friendly folks at Verizon. This is where the fucked part occurs (i know what you wise-asses are thinking so lemme tell ya you are wrong...i did not blow up the computer by opening an e-mail! I am SMART now...remember?) Anyhoo....the e-mail stated how much i just spent without leaving my living room (Damn...i love technology!), the date i could expect the SMARTphone and the cheap piece of shit they were giving away, the two year contract agreement...

AND.........................................................oh i am mega-fucked.

A list of classes in this area to learn how to use the damn thing. Well seems i was so overwhelmed with my new found intellect and my cool looking phone that i forgot i am a techno-dolt. If it has a plug, it will confuse the hell out of me (and i KNOW a cell phone does not have a plug, but you knew what i meant. Stop picking on me). Classes? I need classes? WTF??? I completed a Masters degree on-line, but i have to haul my ass to a school to learn how to use a phone?

I called Verizon. I know they have a no cancellation policy, but they were going to make an exception here. I figured i could use my newly obtained high IQ to worm my way out of this mess.

Not only am i fucked, but i am also an idiot.

They would not cancel. What they did do was to explain that computer stores offer classes for first time buyers on how to use their new computer. The rep asked if i ever took a computer class and i told her i did not. She then bellowed "Well there ya did not NEED a class for the computer, you mastered it on your own. The phone will be the same!!" This made me feel better. A lot better. A high IQ, plus the ability to figure out how to use the SMARTphone.....ooooo yeah...i ROCK!!!!!!!

One problem. My self taught computer skills have resulted in three blown up computers and 9 trashed modems in a ten year period.

Major mega-fucked. Yep.

So...Hubby gets the Smartphone and i am keeping the cheapo free piece of shit that quantifies me as a dumb ass.


1/1/2010 4:37:56 AM
Wishing you a Blessed and safe New Year. May all your dreams come true!2010 Hat

12/29/2009 12:55:21 PM
So...the LoudOne spent the morning playing, and of course, as a three year olds will do, there were toys from one end of the living room to the other.

I asked him to pick up a few and was ignored. Hubby asked as well and received the same treatment.

Finally we got a bit tough and informed the lil dude that if the toys were not picked up in 5 minutes, they would be thrown away.

Little arms were folded across a little chest and with a disgusted expression he looked at us and announced "Ya know...the two of you are really starting to annoy me!"

I had to leave.....
12/23/2009 3:23:10 AM
a blessed and safe Christmas everyone!!!
12/19/2009 10:50:51 AM
[quote]ORIGINAL: sirsholly

<<<<TheLoudOne and Mommy an hour ago

<<<< TheLoudOne when Mommy fell off the sled *smart-ass kid*

<<<< Mommy
12/15/2009 6:41:24 AM
So...yesterday i looked around the kitchen and realized a grocery shopping trip was a bit overdue. TheLoudOne was in a rather crabby mood (maybe cause there was nothing to feed him?) but i thought i could handle a three year old and a cart full of edibles too.

I am an idiot.

If he was not doing the toddler imitation of Tarzan, he was tossing things out of the cart, grabbing things off of the shelves, giving the raspberry to other shoppers, etc.....the kid was a freaking monster and by the time i left the store with a 300.00 order, my nerves were shot (three carts full...two stock boys each had a cart, and i was in the lead with the cart that contained the LoudOne *we drew straws to see who got the kid...i lost*)

Now...when the kid is in a pissy mood he has a propensity to unlock the seat belt on his booster seat in order to get a better angle for the "MommyBop" (wait till ol Mom steps on the gas then toss any/all available objects in her general direction). So...he and the booster seat were put in the front, next to me (airbag turned off, of course).

Have i mentioned that i am an idiot?

He was pissed and did not keep this information to himself. Between his bellowing,  reading me off, and his little hands reaching for everything, i was ready to pull my hair out. The final straw came when afore mentioned little hands reached out and slammed the gear shift into reverse as i was getting on the interstate (lucky for the transmission, i was merging very slowly). This was a first...he knows not to touch the gear shift, and the situation was serious. I read him the riot act in a rather rude manner, annnnd the fight began.

Fighting with a toddler simply adds to my idiot status.

So...we both got home alive. Since there were so many groceries, i decided to back into the drive way, then kept going until i had the hatch next to the back door. The problem was, a week prior to this i had placed three of those stooopid wire reindeer decorations in front of the house...directly in the path of my reversing SUV. I find it odd that i did not hear the crunch of the first two, and in all probability only heard the destruction of the third fucking thing because it tore the muffler off.

Go me an idiot.

This did not help my shattered nerves and/or crabby mood in any way. The fact that the LoudOne found the entire incident to be hysterical only added to the off day i was experiencing. He got out of the car seat and was out of the car to assess the damage, noting all details so he could inform daddy when he got home...just in case good ol Mommy didn't want Daddy to know. I ignored the kid, letting him play next to the electrical fence while i lugged in the groceries (relax...the fence was not turned on).

So...after approximately 35 trips from the car into the house, the hatch was empty and i could move the car off of the smashed reindeer and back onto the driveway. I did remove two of the damn things from under the car first...thinking it was divine justice in a they were probably the little bastards that ran over Grandma's ass, causing some half-wit to write that very annoying song.

So...i was more than ready to get the car back into the driveway so i could begin the wonderful task of putting the groceries away. But there was yet another glitch in my plan. It seems that when i stopped the car over the dead reindeer, it was directly next to the stooopid Christmas banners (2) that caused Jim to toss a clot when he saw what i paid for them ("They were HOW much??!!??").
The banners were hung on a huge flag pole, with the base screwed into one of the pillars on the front porch. Biiig screws too, as they were heavy.

Well it seems that in his haste to leave the car, the LoudOne slammed the fucking banners in the car door (the ONE time in his life he EVER closed a freakin' door!). I was not aware of this fact and proceeded to hit the gas. I only stopped when i heard the sound of the flag pole being ripped off of the porch, taking half of the pillar with it.

You have just read a post written by an idiot.

11/28/2009 5:50:19 AM
So....TheLoudOne has a cold as was lounging his fanny on the sofa...looking totally pathetic.

I took the opportunity to haul MY fanny to the basement to marvel at the incredible amount of laundry that is breeding down there.

I came right back up when i heard three year old feet, attached to a massive set of lungs, scurry across the kitchen floor. Little did i know i was too late. He had already armed himself.

It seems he wandered into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and spied his ammo. He took his empty sippy cup and unscrewed the lid, filled it to the desired level, then reapplied the top. He was now locked, loaded, and ready for Mommy.

Innocently, stupidly, i sat at the computer desk to pay a few bills. He was just a foot or two behind me, happily playing on the sofa...or so he wanted me to think.

When i was done with the on-line paying of the E-BayBillSoHubbyDoesntSeeIt, i leaned back in the chair and felt something...wet. The back of my sweatshirt was...wet. I managed to turn around just in time to see what the little sweetheart was up to.

It seems that when he scampered his tush to the fridge, he loaded his sippy cup to the brim with cherry tomatoes. Now...the fact that those things are $6.99 a pound did not bother him in the least. Actually...the price was not at the forefront of my mind at the moment either. What was in the forefront was ducking. He was picking up the tomato bullets one at a time, aiming at me, and giving the little suckers a squeeze. Up until this point he was hitting my sweatshirt, but when i turned around, i ended up with tomato seeds in my ear.

The fact that i was aware of  the situation did not slow him down in the least. In fact...he saw it as a challenge and happily picked up his pace. The battle ended only when he giggled so hard he fell off of the sofa.


  <----- Mommy
11/25/2009 1:57:46 PM
Yanno...the experts tell you to play act with your kid. Doing so makes you a good parent.

I am NOT a good mommy today.

The LoudOne wanted to have a picnic. Well ok. I got a blanket and put it on the floor. He wanted to make the food UNSUPERVISED (ooooh Lordie...). I sat in the living room with my ears turned on. He was a-clankin' and a-fixin'...but nothing sounded dangerous, so i stayed put.

Finally...the picnic was ready and he bellowed for Mommy. Cute little juice boxes were at each end of the blanket, with a well set place setting. He even folded the napkins!!

Then he unveiled the main course...smiling with pride.

I TRIED....i really tried...but i could not force myself to eat a peanut butter, ketchup and pickle sandwich.

Bad Mommy!!!!
11/25/2009 4:26:52 AM
 It's not about the turkey, the pumpkin pie, the football or the shopping...

It's about gathering together and thinking about all that we have to be thankful for.


11/19/2009 11:59:45 AM seems my three year old son (aka TheLoudOne)  woke up during the night and, in a rare move, did not wake up good ol' mom. Instead, he ventured his little butt into the kitchen to perfect a secret recipe he has been working on. Brewing

He took a new extra large bag of potato chips (about 5.00)
added an entire FIVE POUND jar of peanut butter (10.00) then
to this concoction he added a three pound jar of fancy cashews (12.99...the kind you serve to the company you actually LIKE)
a dozen eggs (no cost..we have chickens)
3 Snickers bars (each had a small nibble...he was hungry)
and to finish the mess...
  a new 64oz bottle of ketchup (squeeze bottles make it SO easy!)

It seems he experienced slight difficulty finding a receptacle large enough to contain this disaster. I was able to ascertain this fact by noting all the dirty dishes that covered the counters, floor, and filled the sink. After putting this crap in every single pot and pan in the kitchen, he finally settled for an extra large frying pan...making a peanut butter, potato chip, cashew, raw egg and ketchup mountain that spilled over the sides and onto the table, chairs, and floor.

Now it was time to put it into the oven. It seems he tried, really tried, to lug this thing over to the stove, but it was too heavy. So...he scooped it out with a spatula and deposited it directly onto the oven rack, each scoop leaving a trail between the table and stove. Of course it plopped down to the lower rack, then onto the bottom of the oven. No doubt he would have loved to begin the baking process right then and there, but cranky ol mom has locks on the stove and oven controls, damnit!

Finally, he completed his mission, and felt it was safe to head back to bed. Since this peanut butter and ketchup mess was all over the floor, it stands to reason it was also all over him. Little feet tracked it from the kitchen to the bathroom (he had to go..) and finally to his bedroom. Thankfully, by the time he reached the dark carpet in his room, the mess had already worn off on the light beige carpeting in the living room and hallway (please note the large amount of sarcasm here).

Exhausted, he climbed back into bed, covering the freshly laundered bedspread, sheets, and pillows with the mess that was on his clothes.

When i woke up this morning at 4am (special thanks to the rooster that likes to cock his doodle-doo outside our bedroom window waaay before sunrise) i innocently headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and was greeted with the type of mess only a three year old can make. I was still standing in the doorway...staring and wondering just how in the hell i was going to clean this up, when in walks TheLoudOne. He looked so darn pleased with himself, and was wearing a smile that was so angelic, i did not have the heart to do anything but hug him.Blow Kiss

THE BELLOWING CAME LATER Screamer be exact, it started when i went into the bathroom and noticed something rather odd looking. Glue!! Yep...good ol glue. All over the toilet seat.
Now...the best way to find out why a child would glue a toilet seat is to ask him, cause i sure as hell couldn't come up with a reason on my own. His answer (said with total innocence) "If i did it at school, the teacher would have yelled at me."
11/13/2009 11:25:13 AM
The events as they unfolded:

I was pulling a Susie-Homemaker and running the vacuum. I accidentally ran over the f**king cord. This made me cuss. When the cussing was completed i got the necessary tools needed to splice the cord back together. I had no clue how to splice something...but how hard could it be...right?

So...i am a-cuttin' and a-splicing...and when i was done twisting all those teensy weensy little copper wires together (and getting my fingers poked in the process) i felt it was a good idea to plug the damn thing in to make sure i did it right. I wanted to be sure before i took the next step of twisting those silly little red cappy things onto the wires and wrapping the entire mess with electrical tape. I think y'all see this coming...i plugged it in with exposed wires flopping around. Actually...that was not the bad part. The fuck-up occurred because i turned it on...

Much to my credit, i was fast on my feet and able to stomp out all the sparks (shot right out of the outlet...looked like someone lit a sparkler in there, lemmetellya) before the carpet ignited. Once i was done stomping, i noticed the vacuum smelled...odd. Sorta like...smoke. So i hauled it out onto the front lawn (relax...the neighbors are used to seeing major/small appliances smoldering in front of our house. It is one way they know i'm home.)

So...a disaster averted. But when i came back inside i saw that the computer was strangely dark. Common sense (of which i have a limited supply) told me i threw a breaker. No problem...i know where the breaker box is located (basement). So i haul it down the steps and flip it back on.

Since the vacuum was still smokin' i thought i would get on-line. But...the stoopid computer refused to connect to the internet. Tech support was called ("Hey...who wants this call? It's Holly AGAIN!") and we figured out the modem was fried (4th modem this year, btw). I had to wait (and wait...) for the tech from the phone company (Bubba) to call and schedule a time to get his ass out here to replace the damn thing. Bubba has replaced all the previous modems and really hates my guts.

So...this morning i was sick of waiting. I called and was put threw to him ( he gonna kick that secretaries ass).Bubba agreed it was the modem again, and to save time, told me it was perfectly ok for me to bring the fried one in and pick up a new one. Bubba said he was reallyreally busy (Bubba had no intention of driving all the way out here again).

So...i had to disconnect the old modem. This was not as easy as you might think. I managed to get two of the three cables unplugged, but of course the third one had to be a pain in the ass. Somehow it was under the base of the desk. Now...i could not lift this monster to free the cable, and it was shot anyway, so that left cutting the cable (shaddup). I made absolutely sure everything was disconnected before i attacked it with a pair of vegetable sheers. A quick snip and a major tug, and both pieces of the cable were free. Go me! was the wrong cable. I now need a new set of speakers

Anyhoo.....i haul my electrically-challenged ass to the phone company, and there is busy Bubba sitting on his ass eating a cream filled doughnut. I was handed the new modem and not offered a doughnut, which i found rather rude. Bubba suggested Hubby install the new modem. Bubba is NOT getting a Christmas card this year.

The new modem was successfully installed by yours truly (takes a bow) and the computer is now up and running.

The vacuum is not so lucky.....  
11/4/2009 4:34:17 AM
i have zero (ZERO!!!!!) tolerance for blatant stupidity right now.

10/22/2009 3:11:39 AM
why is it that as soon as i am contently walking the Path of LeastResistance i make a wrong turn onto the Trail of WhatTheFuck?
10/20/2009 3:40:40 AM
Dyslexics of the world.....UNTIE!!!!
9/20/2009 6:45:08 AM
Note to self: If you THINK it's Poison Ivy *scratch* there is a very good chance that it is.

9/13/2009 3:10:45 AM
you know it is going to be a baaaad day when you want a Twinkie for breakfast and have to have a granola bar instead because your kid ate the whole box!! Gawd....granola bars are....healthy!! I do not do "healthy" for breakfast. BLEEEEEECH.......
8/21/2009 11:50:16 PM
3am. Damn.. does insomnia bite the big one :o(
8/10/2009 12:33:54 PM
trying to reason with a toddler is as effective as trying to nail jello to a tree.
7/24/2009 3:58:04 AM
Courage is not the absence of fear. It is going forward in spite of the fear.
6/20/2009 5:03:08 AM
Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there. Never forget you are someones hero.
5/17/2009 3:55:50 AM
I took our twenty four month old son grocery shopping at Walmart. I put his chubby fanny in the seat of the cart and went on my merry way, as he chattered up a storm.

I had to go to the pharmacy section of the store for cold medicine *SniffCough* and made the mistake of turning my back on the kid for a split second. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to reach his pudgy hands out and clear the condoms off of the shelf, directly into ol' moms cart.

Since he was sitting in the front of the cart i could not see the 12+ boxes of condoms that were otherwise clearly visible to everyone else.

I spent another half hour walking around the store, stupidly counting my blessings that i had such a well behaved child.

The final embarrassment was at the checkout, when i had to hand the boxes of condoms back to the cashier.
4/29/2009 5:34:17 AM
ginger root.....Ow!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2/19/2009 3:59:50 AM
*note to self* Get the f**king flu shot next year!!
1/5/2009 5:54:04 AM
I am NOT klutzy....I am gracefully challenged.
9/5/2008 7:22:44 AM
I recieved a c-mail from someone who kindly informed me i am the ultimate "ubersnerk". Uber meaning slightly above the rest, and snerk meaning a smartass. Ubersnerk....thats me!!!!!!! *wipes away tears of pride*
9/3/2008 4:24:43 AM
A special hug to someone who was evacuated due to hurricane Gustov. I was grumping about the virtual mountain of dishes piled in the sink. Once i was up to my armpits in soapsuds it occured to me that perhaps they wished they were home to do something as basic as scrubbing the pots and pans. Sorta put things in perspective....
4/17/2008 1:14:16 PM
Life is so short and uncertain, so if you love someone tell them!!!
3/3/2008 12:15:52 PM
Sir and i had to go shopping for a new stove yesterday due to a slight culinary mishap (i sorta caught the old one on fire...oops). Now...normal people would go to the store of their choice, choose a stove, pay in one form or another, and leave. Not us. First we had to argue about where we were going. I won that battle since i was driving. Once (rather smugly) inside the store of my choice (na-ha!) we had to argue about the various features of the stove. I wanted one that cooks stuff. Sir was interested in all the different gizmos that you never use but jack the price through the roof. The badly dressed salesman was pointing out the bells and whistles: Now this hideously expensive model has a warming plate (thats what a microwave is for...reheating shit) an alarm to tell you when the food is done (job of the smoke alarms, thanks) as well as a safety belt which hooks to the wall to prevent the stove from being pulled over (you're kidding, right?). Now...since good ol' Sir is useless in the kitchen i was getting a bit pissed off. First, he should have been asking me what I wanted, since i do all the cooking. Secondly, i had too much coffee. A pissed off sub with a full bladder is not something to be messed with. I finally told Sir (whose culinary speciality is toast) to buy whatever the hell he wanted, then headed off to the Ladies room, walking like my knees were welded together. So....we are now the proud owners of a double oven monster(if i ever have so much cooking to do that i need two ovens i am just calling a caterer). Problem is so big it does not fit in the kitchen (gee, Sir...maybe ya shoulda thought of that first). Transaction cancelled...back to square one. Help.
2/21/2008 3:25:58 AM
if it were not for gutters my mind would be homeless.....
12/15/2007 11:31:19 AM
Master thought today would be a good day to put up the outdoor lights and Christmas decorations, since it is absolutly freezing outside. This joyous event, in preparation of a blessed holiday, never fails to leave us highly pissed off at each other. This year we outdid ourselves. It would not have been so bad if Master was not such an anal retentive boob ("Holly...I told you the green lights go around the door and the red lights are to be wrapped around the pillars.") I unwrapped the green lights from the pillars and replaced them with the red lights, wishing He would stop watching me and get His ass up on the ladder to staple the stupid icicle lights. Since it was really starting to snow i thought i would decorate the door (with the GREEN lights!!) after i put the hideous blow-up Santa on the front lawn. He bellowed down (oh...finally made it up there, did ya, Sir?) that i was to be sure to put it close enough for the plug to reach the outlet. Well..DUH!! I was seriously considering knocking the ladder out from under Him. Then i started to put red lights on the gate. He said He did not want red lights on the gate. I said i hoped He stapled His tongue to the roof. We went back and forth with our loving holiday cheer until we were almost done. He had one extra set of icicle lights and asked for my input on where He should put it. I do believe He found my suggestion to be rather rude...
12/14/2007 6:29:40 AM
An fyi...when Master asks if He is losing His hair, it is NEVER a good idea to answer "nope...just growing more forehead."
11/17/2007 3:24:54 PM
Master showed His slut the new toy He purchased. It is a rather wicked looking rubber strap that is actually made from a tire. Before i could stop myself i started to laugh and asked Him if He mugged the Michelin Man. That was a mistake.
11/13/2007 4:04:47 PM everyone who said it is a good idea...PFFFFTTTT!!!!
11/13/2007 3:04:56 PM
Once again my smart mouth ranneth over. I am beginning to think, for the sake of my poor bottom, i should be permanently gagged.
10/21/2007 3:56:33 PM
i feel i have to make an apology to all the Masters/Doms who have written, telling me i am just what they are looking for and i am to leave the Master/husband i am devoted to...yada, yada. I have not answered these messages due to a personal failing. It seems that i cannot master the fine art of typing a response while i am rolling around on the floor, laughing my ass off. Hmmm...i must work on this....
10/19/2007 4:51:47 AM
A Master who collars/marries a strong willed, opinionated and wee bit outspoken slave/sub should not expect her to be a passive doormat!!!
9/19/2007 9:21:17 AM
Master has ordered that i enter my latest transgression. The kitchen sink developed a rather annoying drip secondary to the need for new washers. Master said He would fix it when He returned home that evening from work. I started to think about how hard He works, long hours, etc., and i could fix the annoying drip myself, giving Him the evening to relax. Putting my brainstorm into action, i had the screwdrivers and the washers at the ready and began to take the faucet apart. It is here i should say that the first line in "Plumbing For Idiots" is TURN THE WATER OFF BEFORE YOU BEGIN!! I should have read it before i started. Needless to say water began squirting everywhere. I realized my mistake (oops!!) and knew i had to turn the valve under the sink. First though...i had to remove all the stuff one stores under the sink just to get to the valve. Finally it was uncovered. It was also stuck. This discovery lead to a mad scramble into the basement for the toolbox for something (anything!) that could help turn that stupid valve. The faucet, meanwhile, is still gushing to rival Old Faithful. As i am running up the steps lugging the toolbox i heard a car in the driveway. Oh hells bells...lookie who's home early. Perhaps He wouldn't notice? Um...nope!! He bellowed something that i thought was a wee bit rude, dropped what was in His hands and ran to the sink. An important FYI... one should never, ever, run through 3 inches of water on a tile floor while wearing dress shoes or one will wind up on ones ass. Poor man. I personally thought it worked out well however, as He landed right next to the toolbox (what are the odds of THAT ever happening again????) Anyhow..He quickly had the valve turned off and put a stop to the waterfall. But BOY..was He mad!! The fact that i was on the floor laughing my ass off did not help His temperment in the least. Another thing that added fuel to His fire was that i could not be ordered to clean up the mess myself as i had no clue how to use the shopvac...leaving Him, in a suitcoat, tie, rolled up dress pants (with a wet seat) and bare feet, to do the sucking while i wiped down the walls ceiling, major appliances, cat, and whatever else was waterlogged. When we were done He just looked at me and pointed to the "playroom". Needless to say i recieved a rather severe punishment. Sheeesh...thats the thanks i get for trying to be helpful.
 Age: 33
 Tempe, Arizona