HalfAsstic.com

I went out to get the paper today and someone has emptied a bag of cotton balls all over our yard.  I own two, (2), teenagers and I am no stranger to the apparence of toilet paper in our yard, draped over the trees, fence and house.  Cotton balls are new to me.  I think it must surely be an accident because, like, why?  It wasn’t even dark yet, so I don’t know how it could have happened.  Easy to pick up.  If they were trying to be creative, they didn’t think it through very well.  TP is much more effective, in addition to having visual impact.

Kids are strange now days.  I know our parents never thought that, huh?

The two girls and boyfriend left at 7:00 AM and made it here at 2:00 PM.  They report not running into any traffic at all and only taking one wrong turn, (of which I am very proud of them because they navigated a different way to get to the freeway with the map instead of turning around and looking for the missed road).  Plus, they are all terribly excited to have discovered that “up yonder”, (I have raised nothing if not a bunch of little hicks), they have convenience stores with Monster Slurpeeies.  I don’t mean  just large Slurpeeies, I mean nasty Slurpeeies made with Monster Energy drinks.  Black ones.  Eww.  But nothing delights my brand of little weirdo’s like a high energy, insane sugar, black, vomit-tasting, Icee.

They report having tons of fun and were really not happy to have to come home so soon.  They all go back to work tomorrow.

The boyfriend and Kes went out to Pop’s gun range on the back 40 and shot, well, I am guessing a number of different guns, rifles, slingshots, bow and arrows, anti-aircraft artillery…you get the idea.  Pop reports that he wants to be careful and never get them mad at him because they are both really good shots.  Keelan didn’t want to go do that, we don’t know why.  I guess she was busy getting into mischief somewhere else.

They lit up the sky with fireworks, (no burn ban outside the city limits this year, Woo-Hoo!), and went to my auntie-poo’s house in Burleson where they have been busy installing a GIGANTIC pool.  I keep getting these partial pictures of it and I am having a hard time picturing the entire thing so I asked if somebody couldn’t take a shot from the upstairs balcony.  No, I had already been sent these shots and they are going to have to get some aerial shots to get the whole shebang in a photograph.  It is impossible for me to imagine it, I guess.  I can remember the area it has  been built in quite well.  It has a beach entrance on one end and a built in hot tub, waterfall along with grotto behind it, a vanishing edge and a milliondy-gillion gallons of water.  That link of the vanishing edge is NOT their pool.  I just wanted a good example of one.  I want some good pictures!  My uncle is a pool builder by trade and his son, (my cousin), is in the business with him.  They do all kinds of pools and have many, many years of experience.  The name of their company is Sun-Ray Pools.  There.  A plug I wasn’t really even planning on doing!  But this should help explain how they came about getting a pool with every single bell and whistle known to man.  Anyway, they know what they’re doing.

While I’m plugging my family, my auntie-poo raises and breeds Maine Coon Cats.  They are the largest breed of domestic cat there is and really very beautiful.  Her establishment is called Amerrykoon Maine Coon Cattery.  Interested in a huge cat?  She, literally, ships all over the world.

John and I went to the movie yesterday!  How many years has it been since I went to a movie?  I have no idea.  We saw the new Indiana Jones one and while it was a bit hokey, my gawd, of course it was, it was Indiana Jones!  It was good.  A ton of action and one long, continuous chase scene.  Bad guys and good guys clearly defined by their Nazi uniforms and Russian accent/fedora and American accent.  Harrison Ford is still HAWT!  I guess he will be till he dies.  Anyway, I have to say that the movie experience would not have happened if my SIL hadn’t offered to stay here while we went.  So I am grateful for that.  However, I lost enthusiasm for my appreciation when SIL left the room and H told me to give her $20.00 of her money.  I said, “Why?” and she said, “Well….because she came and took care of me….”  I said, “Henrietta, she is your daughter.  You’re not supposed to have to pay her to come and take care of you.”  I came very close to yelling, I DON’T GET PAID, I’M NOT YOUR DAUGHTER, AND I TAKE CARE OF YOU 24 HOURS A DAY, 7 DAYS A WEEK, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE TWO HOURS SIL COMES AND STAYS WITH YOU LAST THING ON SUNDAY NIGHTS, usually.  This week she really came through.  Anyway, she just can’t stand it.  She gets so few visitors that if anyone, even her daughter shows up she impulsively pushes cash and gifts on them before they go.  So I wrote her a check.

Oh, I forgot!  The best part!  The sound was screwed up during all of the previews and once or twice during the movie and someone had to keep going and getting someone to go to the projection room and fix it somehow.  So when the whole thing was over there was a guy handing everyone a free coupon for another movie.  So I have another date, people!  Wonder who I’ll take….tee hee hee

Finally.  Kessa, boyfriend, and Keelan have just departed to go to my mither and Pop’s house for the long weekend.  They left here about 10:00pm and are going to drive about 7 hours north to the Ft. Worth area.  Decatur, Texas, to be exact.  It’s a small town an hour north of Ft. Worth.  I told them that it would be a much smoother trip and less traffic if they would go late at night because with the holiday weekend, they could be in traffic for hours if they left as soon as boyfriend is off work…

None of them have done a road trip without some responsible adult driving them before.  Rightfully, they quake in fear.  I got a Texas map and highlighted the entire route and then sat down with a little yellow pad and wrote down turn by turn how to get there, what roads to watch for, informative bullshit that they will raise an eyebrow to and call me names to one another when they get to it, cause they are all full of themselves making it all the way to….oh, I dunno, Dew, Texas without adult supervision.  I told them to behave themselves going through Huntsville.  State prisons, lots of prisons.  Anna Nicole Smith lived in Mexia,(pronounced Ma-hay-ah), Texas and worked at the fried chicken place on the right side of the road.  Kes kept finding reasons to call it Mex-e-ah like the 18 year old she is, just to annoy me.  THAT’S OK, SHE’S GONE AND NANA AND POP’S PROBLEM NOW!  BAHAHAHAHAH! (maniacal laughter fading out….)

I am sure they will have a great time and they are super excited about going.  The only thing that would have made the whole thing soooo much better is if I could have gone.  SIL could have totally come and stayed with H over the holiday weekend and I really wanted to, but, I cannot picture me in the backseat of a Mustang with my knees tucked up under my chin for 6 1/2 to 7 hours.  Kes and boyfriend are driving and boyfriend is 6′2″ and certainly can’t get into the backseat.  Keelan who would be back there with me is taller than me and, her legs are even longer than mine.  Loooooong.  So, no.  I can’t do that.  I thought about us taking our Trailblazer.  It even has three rows of seats for any hitch-hikers with knives we might see to pick up.  Seemed the perfect choice, but, we need new tires and can NOT afford to outfit it with such at this point.  So no road trip for the Trailblazer.

So now it’s just John, H and me.  H is in bed and John is working late.  Guess who’s gonna be running around the house naked when he gets home?  Er, no, not H.

I can’t get the song Snowbird, by Anne Murray out of my head.  Been singing this in my little head for a couple of days.  WHY?

Yesterday Keelan spent nearly $300.00 of her hard earned(?) money on an iPod Touch, and an iTunes Music Card.  I think she slept with it last night, and she won’t let anyone else touch it.  Not even me.

Twitter is not working.  I don’t know what to do…What am I if not a Twit?

Wonder why those little frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches John buys are so much better than ones I make myself?  I told him that buying them was the stupidest thing in the world when you could just make them here, fresh, and it’s at least the same thing.  Then he made me try one of the store bought kind.  Yum!  Weird.

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Tonight I ran out with Kessa when she got home from work to shop for a few things that she’s been needing.  It was nice to get out and we usually have a nice time shopping together.  We do NOW…not always.  Anyway, I was standing in the space outside her cubicle in the dressing rooms and there was a mom and daughter a few doors down from us.  I couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but it was rather hushed, stressed tones.  In a few moments the mother came out of the dressing room and stalked past me looking at the floor with her hands balled into tight, white, little fists.  She proceeded out to the waiting area with the sofa and chairs.  she turned the corner and stopped.  I could hear almost all of the exchange with the husband/father:

Mother: “I spent $57.00 on shoes and all kinds of other crap for her last week!”

Dad: “mumble, mumble, well, yeah…..I know…Mumble…”

Mom: “I DON’T CARE!  I am sick and tired of her treating me like shit!”

Dad: “Mumble, mumble…voice down…”

Mom: “I AM TELLING YOU, I AM THROUGH BEING AN EFFING DOORMAT FOR HER!  She treats me like shit and I am nothing but someone for her to just use and abuse!”

This went on for a minute or so and I got the feeling the daughter was taking longer than necessary to come out of the dressing room.  She finally emerged and looked up at me as if all the world was her oyster and gave me a kind of polite little smile as she strolled by and I SWEAR IT WAS ALL I COULD DO NOT TO STICK OUT MY FOOT AND TRIP HER AS SHE WALKED BY AND THEN RUN OUT AND TELL HER POOR MOM WHAT I HAD DONE.

This time in their lives?  I remember it soooooo well….  Mine almost didn’t live through it, only they never knew how close to actual death they came.

Joan Crawford’s got nothing on me.  Just ask the wee small girl child that lives here with us.  Keelan is 17 and has some unusual ideas of good parenting.  She had a friend drop in to visit her last night about 9:30 and she and this other little girl sat in here, (the riff-raff room…where the teenagers hang out at my house) and visited and talked and giggled.  The usual.  Then at about 10:00 I came in here and talked to them.  Keelan popped up and  said that she was thinking about going camping.  Oh.  OK, with (insert friend’s name here)?  Well, yes.  With her.  “When?” I ask.  “Right now.”  After playing 20 questions like this to the tune of 136 questions I finally gathered that her friend had gone to the Texas City dike in a camper with another friend of theirs that I have never even met and said friend’s parents.  She had just left the camp site to “go home and catch a shower”.  So the thinking here is that she will swing by at 10:00pm and pick up Keelan and take her to spend the night with her and all these other people that I have never even met.  When I told Keelan that I would have to talk to them on the phone I got the response I was looking for, cause there was no way she was going.  She did all the requisite stomping, whining, and fuming, explaining that it was stupid to do that and totally embarrassing to her and “How COULD I?”  Etc. And then, per normal procedure, she said, “FINE!  I just won’t go!”  To which I said, “Fine.”, and was secretly very smug.

Now who’s a bad mom and who’s a clever mom?  OK, in the name of justice I guess I should add, who’s a bad, clever, mom?  I think I am a badass clever mom.

In other world shaking news, my dear brother of Squidspot fame has relocated an award I recieved a good while back from my good friend Trannyhead over at Law School Sucks, and so do lawyers.  It is now in the sidebar as it should be.  I really should stay on top of these things, but, alas, my housekeeping, er… “skills” are carried on over to my blogdom.  Such is life.  I am not going to complain cause hey, he got it done.  Yea, Cam!

The stupid “caregiver provider” never showed up today. She made it out here last Friday and did the requisite 3 hour stay, only I was here for most of it. She also gave H her bed-bath and dressed her and pottied her and whatnot. It was very nice. However she is supposed to be here every Tuesday and Friday at 1:00. I called the office at about 2:00 and they called her cell phone and left a voice mail message. About 3:00 she called me and said she had been at the emergency room. She said she is pregnant and had started bleeding. Then she said she is OK they gave her some medicine. She wants to come tomorrow morning and do the whole thing then. How should I feel about someone who supposed to be preggers and having bleeding problems showing up and horsing H around and picking her up and all the job entails? I am betting her employer doesn’t know she’s pregnant. If she really is.

I was looking at Twitter and noticed that Holly over at Anglophile Football Fanatic, commented that the UPS man rang the doorbell and she went into a meltdown of sorts trying to make sure “the boy” didn’t wake up. This got me to thinking about how determined I was that my kids could sleep through anything. I thought I had the perfect plan. I wanted them to be able to sleep through any kind of noise or silence, so, every other night, for a very long time, from day one at home I left the radio on or the tv or something noise making. Not very loud, but loud enough to be heard. And every other night it was off and there was silence. Wanna know how they turned out? Well, I have to say that when they were little it did work. Noise never bothered them, but, they didn’t have to have it to sleep, either. However, now? The older one needs quiet and the younger one, noise. I AM TELLING YOU I DON’T THINK THEY’RE MINE.

Well, I didn’t post all weekend and I usually do, at least once. John is on vacation and we are trying to knock out some of these household projects. Yesterday we rented a Rug Doctor and shampooed the girls rooms, upstairs hall, stairs, living room rug and our bedroom carpet. That is every bit of carpeting and rugs in the house. Oh, and I even gave the upholstery attachment a try on the chairs in the living room. It worked great! The younger piglet daughter’s room was by far the worst. Mostly because she is guilty of sneaking her wee, small dog up there for sleepovers and not getting up in time to let her out. This particular dog has always had a tough time holding her pee and so… she doesn’t. And her owner just decided she was tired of cleaning it up and there were several pee places that just disappeared and several large soda spills AND a huge-ass milkshake (I’m guessing) of some sort spill. All gone. I feel really good about the carpeting in this house now and hey, isn’t that what it’s all about. Can I hear an “AMEN”?

John went out this morning and got two new ceiling fans and a track light for over the fireplace so H can read her paper without the lamp that should be back behind our chairs, that we need cause hey, our eyes are old and crippled too. The old track light blew up or something, and now we’ve got this shiny new one. Halleluiah! The ceiling fans are because the old ones in the L.R. and breakfast area have shorts in the light kits that we have tried over and over to fix and they just can’t be. So I guess I know what we’re going to do today. Oh, that and torture groom the hairy dog in the backyard.

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This is an actual conversation I overheard between two dust bunnies in my house. Imagine Cheech and Chong style “accents”, cause, Yes. they are that rowdy.

Hey, dude! Roll on over here and pile up with me!

Duuuude! I’m on my way!

Yeah, just a tiny bit bigger and we can make a whole new dog!

I’m pretty sure we’re smarter than these dogs.

Yeah, it won’t be long and we can take over this whole household. We’ve just gotta hide behind a piece of furniture and if that crazy-bitch looks back there she pretends she doesn’t see ya. It’s when you break free and go rolling across the floor that you get noticed.

What about that man, dude?

Naww, he’s too tired when he gets home to be picking up anything off the floor. As a matter of fact I’ve noticed that he seems in the business of leaving things on the floor. The crazy-bitch keeps doing these deep sighs and shooting him evil glares.

What about the old lady?

Dude, she’s blind as a bat. She thinks she’s living in a freakin’ palace!

Yeah, well she’s got hot and cold running crazy-bitch. They fooled her into thinking it!

Those girls though. What about them? Do they pose any kind of threat?

Are you kidding me? They live upstairs and while they are very rarely seen down here, I hear they have an entirely different breed of dust bunny upstairs. Carpet dust bunnies.

Dude, I’ve heard those are fierce!

Yeah, well, they’re breeding them big upstairs…

At this point I just stopped listening. I mean hey, I’ve heard it all before.

Nope! That’s not a typo! If you have ever seen the play or DVD called Greater Tuna, you’ll know what I mean. This is a HI-sterical act that these two guys do, mostly dressed in drag. They each play a number of different people in a very, small southern town, named Tuna. I believe it is supposed to be in Texas, although I’m not entirely sure about that but it’s fictional. I’ve just forgotten. Anyway, ever since my mom and I first saw it back years ago, I have called her Mither because one of the characters in the thing is a teenage girl that calls her mom Mither. This chick embodies everything that is evil about teenage girls. I cannot begin to tell you how funny this guy is playing this girl. And not because there is a guy playing her. You forget about that almost immediately. But, what happens is priceless. This is my Mother’s Day gift to all of you. you can get it via Netflix and you need it! It will lighten your spirits. I should have watched it a number of times in the past few days. But, hey, I never have been one to listen to my own good advise!

Cast of Greater Tuna in just two of the many characters they play.

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Moving right along.

Kes just brought in flowers and some clothing for me . I believe her exact words were, “Mom. I got you some clothes.” Picture this with a look on her face like, I am going to break this to you gently, Mom. Then came, “Cause you really need some cute clothes, Mom….Cause yours are… not cute.” I just laughed and she pulled out a trendy little skirt and shirt and I went in and put them on. The skirt is actually a little bit too big, I think, and we will just go back and exchange it. The top fits though, and hey, I have gotten to where I love to try on things and announce that they are too big. “Old age” thing? Probably just “getting fat” thing…

Other child, Keelan, is at work and will do the requisite sucking up as soon as she gets home.

About MY mither:

My mom had me when she was 26 years old and married to my natural father. He was an alcoholic and, from all that I have gathered it was a very rough ride. I had an older brother that was killed in a car accident when I was 3 months old and he was 22 months old. My father was driving home drunk from somewhere he had gone with Kurt, my brother in the car with him when he had a wreck and Kurt was killed. My mom ended things then. I think she had been trying to hold everything together for quite a while, but I also think the effort was mostly on her part. Anyhow, she raised me alone until I was 5, when she reconnected with an old friend from her high school days. My daddy. They dated for a while and got married and before the ink was dry on the marriage certificate, he asked me if he could adopt me and I was thrilled. My natural father was out of the picture and I didn’t remember ever seeing him anyway. Not a real stand-up guy. He had never come to see me and wasn’t paying his child support, so it wasn’t hard to get him to agree to give up his rights. An easy out for him.

Sooo we lived quite happily as a family until my bratty baby brother came along when I was 8. Not really. I adored Cam. He was the best thing ever. Until he wasn’t anymore. About 5years old, I think. Then it was pretty typical sibling shenanigans. Mom was thriving as a wife to my dad and a wonderful mother to both of us. She was involved in ALL school functions and charity stuff as often as she could find it to do. Which was all the time. She “adopted” families and was forever looking for things for a family with 7 or 8 children that was about to have a birthday or around Christmas. These people would send wonderful letters that were written at about a 2nd or 3rd grade level and tell her what was going on and what was needed. She kept lists of the children and their sizes in her purse at all times. If there was a sale at a toy or clothing store, she was there with bells on. This mostly all happened while we were living in Louisiana, as we were there for a few years while I was growing up. There was an abundance of poverty there also. This was something she could never turn a blind eye to. My dad made good money and they made drastic home improvements on every house they had ever lived in, (several), and made a good deal of money on each one when they moved out. I learned all about house flipping from my mom long before HGTV. She and my dad are the definition of “handy”. Anyway, “the buck” actually didn’t stop there. It was passed on to those who needed it far worse.

Henrietta’s ringing the bell. Poop! There must be Poop! More later. Remember! She never got one out yesterday, so this is a big event! BIG!

Today is the day. At 10:45 I will be leaving to go to the dentist. I made special arrangements to get my cleaning and filling done in the same visit because it is so hard for me to break outa here for something like this. John has to take me and someone has to be here with H. When the girls are in school special arrangements have to be made for that. Cause, hey, we’re all special over here. I’m gonna get drilled and filled, I better get treated like a special freakin’ princess the rest of the day!

We’ve got to go by and see Dandy, the preggers mare. I will fondle, grope and be just basically inappropriate with her and then leave her there, confused and ashamed. I’ve turned into a high school boy.

Whatever! LOL
I read a comment on New Duck, yesterday that said that Moo was tagging her. Well, as of Monday morning, anyway. She did. It sounded like a fairly open ended tag, so what the hell. I will enjoy any readership and input from anyone who feels like it!
Here’s the drill:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

Random, very. (Oh and I forgot and did 10, so consider the last 4 a…bonus?)

1. I am the mother of two, (2) teenage girls, a 17 and 18 year old, and I attempt to operate them daily without a helmet.

2. I am the full time caregiver for my 86 year old mother-in-law, who is bedridden/wheelchair bound.

3. I have found that one of the worst experiences in life is dumping a bedpan of shit and pee in the potty and having the… water? splash back up and sprinkle your face in a fashion that would be somewhat refreshing under totally different circumstances.

4. I have a distinctive case of toenail fungus on the 4th toe on my left foot.

5. I LOVE to read. Favorite author of the moment is Janet Evanovitch. She is hilarious.

6. Have to be one of the WORST spellers on the face of the earth. Thank you God for spell check!

7. My husband, John, is the love of my life and a the biggest, proud-of-it, tightwad I have ever known.

8. My idea of a perfect day is to spend the whole day with my husband and two girls out of the house somewhere and have nobody argue. THE WHOLE DAY. This has never happened. But, I have faith.

9. One of my best friends resides in Italy and I miss her. (Hi Susan!)

10. My mom said to say that she is wonderful and loving and, most important, ALWAYS RIGHT. (Happy Mom?)

Check out these blogs!

The New Girl

Silly Me

Candy’s Corner

Fussy

I’ve Come Undone

Speak Into the Mike