Cow-Popsicles

Landry

An open letter to the the keepers of the cows and the stackers of the hay bales @ the "Cow Farm" on CR38 in Mead:

For the love of everything holy please move some of the hay bales along the north side of the pens!

The hay bales are blocking Landry's view of "Her Cows"
(not sure who decided to go into the ranching business with a 4yo without telling her mother but she assures me those are in fact HER COWS)

Anyway...because of the aforementioned hay bales Landry isn't able to complete full visual check on her herd as we drive to and from daycare.

The current weather conditions and her inability to see all of "Her Cows" has lead Landry to believe that they are in immediate danger of becoming "cow-popsicles" (her words) and we must act at once to protect her bovine investment....

Did I mention Landry is 4?

Did I mention that her idea of protecting her/your cows is buying them all hoodies....

I have no clue where to get a cow hoodie and even if I did that's like 800 cow hoodies - I can't afford that and you don't have the time to be dressing 800 cows in Elsa sweatshirts. (Yes, Elsa from frozen....because if she's choosing the sweatshirts they will most definitely be frozen themed....probably bedazzled too)


So in the spirit of Christmas can we maybe just add a few viewing holes....I don't even know how to argue with a 4-year old who wants to dress a shit ton of cows....and she gets seriously pissed when I laugh at her.

"Welcome to Our Home...Please Kill My Dog"

**Note:  Russ AKA: The Russ That Killed Libby did elaborate...see below for details that I forgot.

I'm almost 14 years into this human-raising thing and the majority of the time I feel like I've got this shit down.

I didn't say:
I have this shit down 
or 
I've got this 
or 
I'm a human raising pro....

That would be a complete lie.  There are still times when I look at the 2 terrorists and Big Red and I'm thoroughly amazed that all 3 are still alive and and have the correct number of limbs.
(I am convinced that the ringing in my ears that I hear off and on is a running total of therapy dollars though....)

Last weekend was one of those times....I looked at my precious terrorists and not only wondered how I haven't lost them or damaged them yet, but I knew for certain I that the therapy hours were increasing exponentially.

Most of this little shit-show story I'll be re-telling from the second-hand reports given to me by Derek (I'll be referring to him as Daddy-Death or "the destroyer of innocence) and Russ (now referred to by the terrorists as "The Russ that Killed our Dog")

Feel free to jump in and elaborate boys.....

So, last Saturday my cousin Russ flew in from Louisiana for the weekend.  He came to visit and stay the night Sunday night.  Unbeknownst to Russ we had quite the busy day planned...

We have (or had) a dog named Libby.  She's adopted, but we think she's 12 or 13.  Well, Libby hasn't been doing so well these last few months (or 2 years).  She had been steadily losing the use of her back legs along with other minor issues like crapping as she walks ALL OVER THE HOUSE.  We've been discussing putting Libby down for quite a while, but every time we get serious enough to actually schedule something she has an amazing week so we call it off. That, and the fact that she's the only dog that actually likes the terrorists (and they ADORE her) has made this the hardest decision ever.

Last week I finally put my big girl panties on and decided that it was unfair to Libby to keep her in her current condition, so I called the Vet and made an appointment to have her put down that Saturday.  The terrorists have heard us discussing having Libby "put down", but I don't think they really got the meaning. Sometime in that following week I sort of explained it to them (or just Jaxon maybe).  I don't remember but I vaguely remember one of them being upset.

This is when "The Farm" lie came into existence.  I changed that sentence from "Were putting Libby down." to "We're bringing Libby down to a farm where there are no stairs so she can get around better".  That beautiful lie worked like a charm...everyone was happy about Libby's new farm home.

....Until The destroyer of innocence ruined it all.

So I may have forgotten about Libby's impending doom (or I may have turned into a giant vagina), but I scheduled my tattoo appointment too close to the time of doggie death.  I realized I wasn't gonna make it.  Right about the time I realize this (I'm sitting in a chair, mid-tattoo) Derek is returning home with the guest of honor.  I call Derek and tell him I can't take Libby.  D magically has an important door issue he has to fix so we're at a stale mate.  Being the fixer of shit that I am I tell Derek to have Russ to go.  Send him with the dog, the credit card and our truck  - PROBLEM  SOLVED...Or so I thought.
X
Nope, not us....we are the living breathing representation of a hot fucking mess.  Of course it wasn't that easy.

I get a text from Derek telling me I'm a giant dick for not being there "for this".  I assumed he was either mad or Russ was bitching out too, so  I told D to tell Russ to forget it and I'd be home shortly to handle it myself.

The response I get from Daddy-Death:  "I'm just giving you shit" and "He's already gone"
Needing to know what exactly I should have been there for I give him a call and ask him to specify what happened and what I missed.  Remember, Libby was going to a fucking farm with no stairs....everyone was good.  This was a seamless plan!

Until the destroyer of innocence ruined it all....
Apparently, when they got home Derek asked Russ if he'd mind taking Libby to have her put to sleep.

IN.FRONT.OF.THE.TERRORISTS.

There went my bullshit farm story.  Doesn't everyone tell their kids that the dog ran away or went to a farm?  I thought that was parent protocol.

In hindsight maybe I should have run down the farm story to Daddy before leaving...
So the terrorists begin to ask questions.  From what I gather Daddy was short but brutally honest.
"Russ is taking Libby to the vet where they're gonna give her a shot to make her die.  Then she's gonna go live with Jesus"

HOLYSHITBALLS!!! 

Then they cried.  Well my sweet boy Jax cried and begged Russ "the dog killer" not to kill Libby.  Lannie cried too, but she cried because she wanted to go "to see them stick the needle in her neck"

(Side note here: I think I was wrong on the serial killer predictions...It's gonna be the tiny one)

The dog killer returned and tried to fix it as best as he could.  He told Jaxon that on the way he found a farm with no stair for Libby and that's where she was.

The boy smiled from ear to ear

Until Tiny Satan Terrorist leaned in and whispered to him  "that farm is in heaven with Jesus"  and walked away....

We might have sucked at parenting this weekend, but Lannie overshadowed it by being FUCKING EVIL.  

I'm not sure if I should be grateful for the smokescreen or if I should start hiding the knives....

From RUSS - AKA: THE RUSS THAT KILLED LIBBY:

Russ You left out all the best parts!

Ashley It was so long tho...write it in!!!

Like · Reply · 38 mins

Russ Well, how about how the dog who couldn't walk had to be picked up and carried into the back of the truck, decided to RUN and make me chase her through the parking lot at the humane society, or the dog who's back legs weren't working, was STANDING on them with her front paws on the door as she stared out the window smiling at me as I explained to the lady at the front counter how much pain she was in and how her back legs didn't work, or how as I was about to go into the room to pet her she had already shit all over the place.

Like · Reply · 1 · 32 mins

Ashley  Hahaha!! Keep adding them and I'll update the post when I get home. Didn't Lannie introduce you to Libby too?

Like · Reply · 31 mins

Russ  Yep, said "this is Libby, she's about to die" about 15 mins before D asked me to "go put her down" which means something totally different here

Like · Reply · 28 mins

Ashley So I need you to commit to at least 3 more trips back up here....

Like · Reply · 25 mins

Tiffany  What, you going to have him kill 3 more dogs?

Like · Reply · 23 mins

Ashley  When it's their time not tomorrow. 2 dogs and a cat actually - besides he's familiar with the process now

Like · Reply · 1 · 22 mins

Tiffany Lmao! You ass monkey!

Like · Reply · 20 mins

Russ Haha, I'll come as long as you buy the ticket. Might want to do it all at once though, save you some money

Like · Reply · 19 mins

Tiffany  Ya'll should get the story straight too. You know, the one that's about the farm in heaven with Jesus.

Like · Reply · 17 mins

Russ Or we could just keep D from the kids

Adoption Storks, Belly Button Tubes & Magic Vaginas

Yup you read that right...
Adoption storks, belly button tubes and magic vagina's was the car ride topic a few days ago.  (I blush a little just thinking about it.)

Thanks to the terrorists we were once again trapped in an enclosed space forced to talk about uncomfortable shit.  (At least it was we this time and not me.)

Before I get to the actual conversation there are a few facts you need to know about us and some back story needed for this to all make sense.

First off we're pretty open about body parts and call most everything by it's actual name.
No "wee wee" and "pee pee" here. (Well except for Jaxon's balls - He couldn't say testicles when he was little and I couldn't practice that word with him over and over with a straight face so we called them balls and moved on.)    In our house it's totally common to hear the toddlers talking about penis' and vagina's.  They were so close in age we had to explain the whole "girls have vagina's and boys have penises" thing pretty early on.

Secondly, Lannie is fascinated with the body.  Like actual organs and shit.  It's really weird for a 3

year old, but maybe she'll be a surgeon and pay for a nice nursing home for me one day.
Anyway, she gets on theses kicks and wants to know specifics about specific body parts.  A few weeks ago it was the "neck tubes"  or what normal people call the esophagus.  She made me show her pictures (thanks google) and wanted to know what it did.  There have been others but the only important one to this story is the belly button.  Months ago Lannie was asking about her belly button.  I did the best I could at coming up with a simple answer.  I told her it was a tube that she used to eat when she was in my tummy and that it connected from my tummy to hers so we could share my food.  Jax happened to be in on this discussion as well.

Lastly, is the fact that Derek is adopted.  It's not a secret and Derek's parents are pretty open about it.  His dad likes to tease him and tell him that they picked him up and had a 30 day return policy.  Jax has also heard this too.  I think he thinks that Derek wasn't ever actually in anyone's tummy, he was just picked up at a baby store or something.

With that being said let me share the story of the most uncomfortable car ride with the terrorists to date:

It was a few days ago and we were going to the movies.  (Me, D, Jax and Lannie)  The kids were asking to see some new movie about storks.  It isn't out yet so we saw something else, but I think that's how we got on the subject of storks, belly buttons and magic vagina's.

I wasn't paying much attention to the terrorists in the back but I heard them conversing about storks and how not all babies were delivered by storks.  Some came out of mommy's tummy's.  I think Jaxon's final consensus was that adopted babies get delivered by storks and all other babies come from mommy's tummy.  Well Lannie being Lannie didn't agree and there started the "the conversation"

Someone from the back asked me if babies came from mommies tummies. I replied yes and thought the conversation was over.

Fucking WRONG!

As soon as the terrorists mulled that over they wanted to know how the babies got out.
"Um, Um..." I stammered to buy time.  I looked at Derek and he shrugged.  So we pretended like the question was never asked and hoped that was it.

NOPE...of course not

They came up with their own solution.
Jaxon: "So babies just pop out of mommies tummies"
Me: Yep (shooting a Sideways look at Derek - he had nothin')
Jaxon: "So we popped out of your tummy?"
Me: "Yep" (I'm keeping it short and sweet hoping a piece of lint with attract their attention...but they just wouldn't let it go....)
Jaxon: "So wheres the scar on your belly that we popped out of"
Lannie: "Yeah wheres the scar?  What did we pop out of?"  (She's a damn instigator!)
Me: "Um.....my belly button?"  I did in fact ask this as a question because I wasn't sure if they were gonna buy it
Jaxon: "No the belly button is the baby food tube remember."  Sonofabitch...no, actually i didn't remember that.  "So where does the baby pop out of?"

I look over at D and he's kind of giggling (we both are - we clearly weren't prepared for this conversation yet)
By this time I know I'm not getting out of this one with some lame ass story and I'm trying to decide just how accurate I'm gonna be.  I look over at D and give him the "What the fuck do I say" look.  He shrugs and smiles.  (remember he's a dick)
I go with not very specific...but I say it fast. (Maybe that'll work)

Me: "Um, Uh...babiescomeoutofbutts"  (yeah, if you slow that down I told my 5 & almost 4 year old children that babies.come.out.of.butts.  I meant the general butt/nether region....they understood "ass hole"
Jax took it more literal....
Jax: "NO! You don't poop babies!"  laughing at me like I'm purposely making a joke "You poop turds!"
Me: "Well it's kinds like that.... they come out somewhere down there" (this is seriously never gonna end....)
Lannie: "So where does the baby pop out of mommy?"  I know this is going to have to be good because Doogie Howser is gonna want pictures soon....

Right then I had the best idea EVER!!!!

Me: "I was laying in a bed when you popped out I couldn't see.  I just know it was down there by my butt.  Ask Daddy - he was watching...he knows"
I was so pleased with myself I didn't even remember to get a glimpse of Daddy's face.

Daddy however cut right to the chase....
Derek: "Babies come out of Vaginas - you came out of your mom's vagina"
Terrorists: "Ewww, No we didn't!"
Me & Derek: "Yup.  That's what happened"

I think it took Lannie a little longer to process.  I vaguely remember her looking at me then down at her "stuff" and I'm pretty sure she decided that vaginas are magic.  I know I heard "magic vagina" at some point, but Derek and I were giggling like school girls and trying act "adult-ish"  so I kind of lost the rest of their conversation.

And just like that it was over.

But it's never really ever over with the terrorists.

They're just waiting for the opportunity to blindside me.  That's what they do.

So.....

To the lady in the checkout line sometime in the near future:  I apologize my daughter kept asking you if you have a magic vagina with babies in there.  She didn't mean to weird you out.  I know she keeps staring at it like it's gonna do a trick - feel free to turn around and ignore us.

To the parents who's kid believes in storks: I'm so sorry Jaxon convinced him he's adopted.  On the up side, if you're reading this you already have a road map of the conversation.  Just skip the butt hole baby....go straight to magic vagina and just get it over with.

I've given my apologies.  Now may I suggest that if you have kids and we're friends you either stop inviting us over or go ahead and prepare to explain this shit to your kids to...mine are most def. going to impart their wisdom on yours.   

7 Things I Want My Daughter To Know....TODAY, RIGHT NOW (...so maybe she'll quit being a dick)

I spent the 1st half of my day today at work trying to track down and fix problems I didn't create.
I spent the 2nd half of my day trying to fit 4 hours of work into 2 so I could leave work twice to drop the teenager off at cheer and pick her up again.  (I also managed to have just about everything that could go wrong, in fact go wrong.)

The opposite of Asshole - this is when she's being awesome!

Upon picking up teenager I learned she didn't actually go to school today - it was a half day and she "didn't feel good".
If you follow my blog or know me even slightly you already know what a shit show grades are when it comes to this one.  Anyway, the teen got a little ass chewing and was told that she wouldn't be deciding her attendance until she could make passing grades.
I think this is what ruined her mood, but she wouldn't actually speak to me so I'm not certain....

I asked a few times but she was insistent on staring out the window and making a "something smells like shit face" instead.

So, as I was driving I was thinking of all of the pearls of wisdom I could impart on her or maybe just point out that I stopped what I was doing (and made more work for myself in) order to make sure she got to do what she wanted, then I took another look at her unchanged "something smells like shit" face and realized that it would be a waste of time and breath.
I also realized that all of these "10 things I want my daughter to know before she..." lists are great and thoughtful and all that jazz but they really don't do dick for the here and now.

So here are The Seven Things I Want My Asshole Teenager To Know....like right now:

This is when I was an asshole -

I'm still apologizing for these years

1) I know you're calling me names in your head, rolling your eyes when I'm not looking and mainly wishing I'd just shut up and leave you alone. (I've even seen the texts and the colorful things you've written about me)  It's cool though.  I was a teen once and I did that too.  But mainly it's cool because I'm still doing it to you....oh yeah - while you're rolling your eyes or making stink faces I'm calling you all kinds of names.  PS - I'm 35 and I work in construction - my names win.  (Here's a plan - you keep yours to yourself and make damn sure you don't actually ever say them to me aloud and I won't tell you all of the shit I've called you - we'll both be better for it)  PPS...I also flip you off behind your back (sometimes it's the only thing stopping you from getting beat)

One day you'll even put a pic of us as your FB Profile

....I'll be over here waiting

2) In just 5 short years you will begin your real adult life and in the excitement of being a young adult on your own you will most likely forget our fights during the teenage years. So will I (or I'll take a cue from your granny and graciously pretend like I can't remember all that "minor" stuff)  Here's the really creepy thing - one day you will have your own children and your own fights and attitudes to navigate -  in that moment you will remember with unsettling clarity exactly what you said when you made your mom cry or when you actually hurt her feelings for real. You will apologize and she will accept, but you will know that some things can never be unsaid.  Choose your words and actions carefully because you will be faced with them again.

3) I'll continue on that train of thought:  Basically everything you do will come back to bite you in the ass.  In the form of one or all of your children.  It's called karma, she is a bitch and she is real.  I can attest to that...you my dear, are my penance for all of the shit I put my own mom through. (She laughs at me when I tell her stories....like literally chuckles at my misery.  I will do the same to you)

4) I want you to grow up and think for yourself, don't be a follower if you don't agree with the majority.  Fight for the things you see as fair and just.  Don't be afraid to go against the grain.  Don't ever be afraid to be different.  Except in my house.  Just don't.  Social injustice has nothing to do with sleepovers, phone privileges or the length of your grounding.  Don't argue it'll only make it worse. Here's a good rule of thumb - expect to be grounded for one month for every major infraction.  If you think whatever it is that you're planning on doing is worth that month then give it a shot.  But if you choose to risk it 1) take your punishment like the adult you thought you were when you willingly broke the rules (that means take it quietly and no I smell shit face"  like it's my fault) and 2) know that I'm the dictator in this little country.  I can and will do as I please.  That month could turn into 3 or you might just find yourself standing in front of your school with sign around your neck and those Velcro Walmart shoes I always threaten you with.  It's really a crap shoot...

5) I know your little brother is annoying as hell sometimes (we all know that- he's 5) but you need to try and be patient with him and cut him a little slack.  You were 5 once and we didn't sell you.  More importantly he is your family.  As you get older you'll realize they are what matters...you'll realize they always were what mattered and in the end they're all you can really count on.  By the time you realize this you'll be so deep into your own hectic life that you'll depend on the bond you created in childhood to keep you connected when life gets in the way.  Also, he's you're built in protector.  He'll protect you fiercely from anyone or anything that might make you cry.  When your young adult life is going to hell in a hand basket you'll want your back up.  (he also might be a serial killer - you don't wanna piss him off in that case either)

6) You won't immediately believe this, but it's true....you will miss all of this one day.  You'll spend the next 5 years fighting and clawing for your independence.  If you're anything like me you'll run like the fucking wind as soon as you get it.ENJOY IT-  because life will have another surprise for you (FYI - life is constantly fucking with you, this won't be the only plot twist, but you can be surprised by the rest).  Like I was saying, as soon as you have that independence thing sorta mastered you'll be slapped in the face with a family and babies.  You'll realize you're actually calling the woman that caused all of those eye rolls and asking for advice and, like totally listening to it!  If that weren't weird enough those babies turn into asshole teenagers and you'll begin hearing my voice coming out of your mouth.  ....AND your eyes won't automatically get sucked up into your eye sockets!!!  You're actually pretty proud that you picked up some of that shit.  Somewhere along all of this you'll begin wondering why you ever really left at all...you won't remember what made you feel like you needed to run and you'll wonder why you traded a full time maid and chef for a mortgage and toilets that no one but you ever cleans.  Mostly you'll wonder how you didn't notice what a kick ass mom you had the whole time...you'll start to dwell on it but someone will shit on the floor, or fail school or do any number of things to cut short your thinking time.  (That's that bitch karma again...and at the rate you're going she's gonna wear your ass out.)  Try to enjoy this prison sentence and your guards while it lasts.  It will end one day and you'll miss some of it.

See - before kids...I exuded fun

7) Lastly, believe it or not I didn't spend my teen years daydreaming about having babies, making lunches, chauffeuring kids to sports, getting up early, making other people food, repeating myself a million times and cleaning up shit I didn't leave all over my house.  I daydreamed of being a doctor and being rich(not actually working) going out with my girlfriends, sleeping late and spending all of my money on clothes and spa services and European vacations.  Life happened and I got you guys instead, BUT I would choose each one of you a million times over given the choice (even with the attitudes and eye rolls).  Please try and remember - I'm not just "mom", I'm a person too.  I have feelings and shit just like other people.  I also don't inherently enjoy cleaning up messes I didn't create and repeating myself 5 million times.  Most importantly, remember that when I'm doing something for one of you guys (buying you perfume, driving you to practice, hosting a sleepover, etc.)  there's a good chance I've given up something I wanted or modified my plans to
make yours work. Thank you goes a long way in mommy currency.

This is how I pictured my 20-40's

   You 3 people are the reason I get up each day and work hard to get you everything you want and need, but cut me some freaking slack every now and then.  It's not a cake walk raising you monsters either.  I teeter on a thin line between raising successful humans and causing hundreds of thousands of dollars in therapy.

In summary - those are the 7 things that might be helpful for you to know now, but mainly just don't be an asshole.  I will always win and I can make the next 5 years as painful or as pleasant as your actions require.  Plus...Karma.  She is a real whore and she will come to pay you back.....

Love you
Mom


PS....can you for the love of god please take your laundry downstairs?!?!?!