She Bangs She Bangs.....and she falls off the treadmill

My new thing lately has been trying to exercise more. I have been doing really good, getting up at 5:30 each morning and walking on the treadmill and doing sit-ups. Not quite ready for turbo class at the Y yet but getting there. My husband and I are planning a trip to Jamaica sometime in the next millenium and I want to look presentable in a swimsuit....fast forward to my topic.

So I have been searching high and low for songs that can get my sleepy ass moving at 5:30 in the morning. My current favorite is Ricky Martin's "She Bangs" The one that was butchered on American Idol by the chinese guy, who then released it himself with a video....horrible. I prefer the original version. So when this song hits the ipod it gets me movin and groovin! So much groovin, in fact I fell off the treadmill! Picture it now.....I am walking along walking along and then my song comes on and I start struttin my stuff on the treadmill. I start waving my arms and doing some salsa steps and the next thing you know....whoosh off the back and slam into the wall. Even though there was no one around to see it, I still had to look to make sure. Thankfully I didn't get hurt, or that would put a stop to the dumb treadmill for sure! Maybe next time I better pause for a few minutes and just dance on the floor! She Bangs She Bangs...Oh Baby and she moves she moves.... Just a heads up for you treadmill dancers out there, you need to be careful!
(side note....holy crap!!! My exclamation point works again. I don't believe it. See previous entry no emotion to get the whole story. I have missed you exclamation point! WoW!! I feel so alive again!)

The Exorcist (don't read this if you don't have a strong stomach)

I have always had a very easy gag reflex. When I was teaching I had a student that was notorious for coming to school with a runny nose. Not only was it runny, it was bright green and thick runny which typically meant he was carrying around some sort of virus. And we all know that kids with runny noses have horrible breath. So I would sit next to this kid and teach him seeing up close and personal the green snot and smell the stench and would typically get a gag reflex going (like Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber) Anyway...I see gross stuff and don't handle it well. That is until I had kids. I have cleaned up more puke in the past 48 hours than anyone should have to in their entire lives. Here is a little advice for those of you out there who may have to do this in the near future. If you think your kids might puke in the next 24 hours, don't feed them spaghetti o's and meatballs and for sure don't give them pickles. Just a heads up....
I just recently lived through a version of The Exorcist with projectile vomitting. My daughter, who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent, apparently had a touch of the stomach flu. About midnight I hear her coughing and gagging in her room and I run in to find the most disgusting sight ever seen. It looked like an animal had been bludgeoned to death. She not only puked, but she puked all over herself, her bed, her carpet, and 2 walls. And not just a little one the walls...I am talking CSI agents could have been there to measure the projection of this puke to figure out at which angle she was sitting to hit not only 1 but 2 walls in her room. So.....back to me and my gag reflex. I heard this myth when I was pregnant with child numero uno, "when it is your child you don't worry about how gross it is, you just go into mom mode and don't worry about it." And I have to say for me that has been true. I walk in to this situation and I immediately go into mom mode. I analyze my surroundings and see...
#1 child needs bath- puke all over hair
#2 wall needs to be cleaned with soap and water
#3 bedding needs to be changed and washed
#4 before bedding can be washed need to scrape chunks of tonights supper off
#5 carpet needs to be cleaned by professional but since there is no time will scrape up the chunks, spray a little carpet cleaner and throw a towel down to avoid any "re vomit" from hitting the same spot.
#6 I need to clean everything she has touched in the last 24 hours to avoid child #2 from getting sick.
I sat in her room and picked up chunks of meatballs and pickles. I scrubbed off the layers of spaghetti o's from the walls and had to scoop the sledge off her quilt before I could even wash it. All of this I am fine with....no problems. (I am hoping that at least someone reading this is vomitting a little by now)
I lay there that night after all of this was over and I think....when did I change. When did that shit stop bothering me.... How is it that I can see my child puke over and over again and I stick out my hands to catch it? Who in their right mind would rather puke land in their hands then on the floor? Why would it ever be a good idea to hug a puking child close to your chest on the way to the bathroom to let the mess go on my shirt instead of on the floor. And as I lay there and think that "This too shall pass" I am a true mom. I have been puked on, snotted on, slobbered on and cried on. I am wearing my mythical badge of honor....watch should my wondering ears should I hear????
Child #2 puking........huh? Is this a sick joke.
I gotta go...more puked up pickles to clean up.

My soundtrack...

Awhile ago I read an article about making a soundtrack of my life. It sounded a little morbid at first but then realized it was an awesome idea and so I started. I started typing out a list of songs that meant something to me and then wrote a little blurb about why I liked the song or what it makes me think of. So far I have about 50 songs. You know you all have these songs...when you are sitting in your car and the song from your junior prom comes on and it makes you think of that hot guy you went to prom with and makes you smile! Or the song you heard on the day you found out you were pregnant, or the song that makes you think of the time you broke up with your first love and it still makes you cry. Or the first song you danced to with your husband....mine is Mickey! Or my favorite...the song that reminds me of a night when I was in middle school and a couple of friends were at my house and we made up a dance routine to Wild Thing by Ton Loc! Ha....

I have no emotion

Have you ever been in a situation where something in your life was missing? Something you didn't really appreciate until it was gone? Something where you didn't realize the magnitude of its presence in your life until you were no longer able to see it? Well then you can imagine the pain and utter hell I am living through right now. My exclamation point key does not work. I can't type with any emotion. It is horrible....see right there I would have put an exclamation point so you knew I really meant it. Sometimes when I am happy, I use 2 or 3 in a row. But no more. How will anyone know I am happy. Or how about the times when I am pissed off. I want to yell something at you over an email and end it with an emotion....you stupid jerk how dare you. That just doesn't have the same effect with a period at the end does it. I think I may just give up this blog. Who is going to want to read my emotionless entry...if you have made it this far I thank you. Please think of me and pray that my exclamation point key somehow returns to me.

I Pledge Allegiance to the Flag

Am I a bad American if I don't give a rats ass about the upcoming presidential race. In fact, I try my hardest to change the channel or avoid the conversation at all costs. But unfortunately I can't escape. It seems everyday that Hillary Clinton is calling me or Rudy is asking my opinion on the hot issues. Don't get me wrong, I care about what happens to this country, I care about the things that are going to affect my children. I want the best health care plans available, I want "No Child Left Behind" to walk out the door when George Bush does. I just don't want to hear about it all the time. I don't want to analyze it, I don't want to give my opinions, I don't care about other peoples'. Recently I was sent an email quiz. Upon completion of this quiz I would be given a score and that score would tell me which presidential candidate I am most compatible with. To me, this was the best way to figure out who I should vote for. I will vote, I will do my civic duty, however I am not sure how "civic" it is since I am typically voting based on some bogus fluke. In fact at the last presidential election, as I drove to the polling center, I told myself that the last sign I saw was who I would vote for. I would think that most of the candidates would rather not have my vote if it is going to come that way, but unfortunately they don't care other than to get votes in any possible horrible annoying never-ending way. Well the more I type the more pissed off I am getting because now I am wasting blog space discussing it. As I type this blog entry I have already heard 5 commercials for candidates...think of all the trashy tv I could have watched instead. God Bless America.....

Wanted: Husband with Clue (even a little one)

Apparently this will be my bitchaboutmyhusband.blogspot
Seriously (when you are reading this please use the Meredith from Grey's Anatomy tone)
Where can I buy a freakin clue? Because I am going to wrap it up in bright red paper and stick it under the Christmas tree with my husband's name on it in HUGE letters. But even then I don't think he would get it. I don't think even if Jolly 'Ol St Nick himself came to our doorstep and handed him a brand spankin new clue he would comprehend. Again seriously. What do their mothers teach them. I have a son, I hate to think of the day he gets married and his wife looks at him and then looks at the pile of dirty laundry at his feet and he stares back at her with a blank expression and wonders to himself "What do you think she is trying to say to me? I don't understand." Do you think I am being Punked? Do you think someone out there is watching my soap opera of a daily life. Do you think they TiVo me and watch my life while they sit and snack on popcorn and giggle at the hilarity of it all? You know you have thought it before...hmmmmmmm

Mother May I ?

Why is it that no matter what age you are and what relationship you have with your mother......she can ALWAYS find the right buttons to push to just PISS you off like no other!
Take for instance my mother (just for the story's sake...) Picture a nice family meal with my parents, my husband, and my 2 kids. I have set rules for supper time that my children eat what they have been given, blah blah blah. Fast forward to my daughter not eating her hamburger and Grandma bribing her with Cheetohs! Simple enough, yes, but it makes me want to jump across the table and shove down every piece of disgusting supper I had to eat when I was little and couldn't leave the table until I gagged down every single freakin crumb. When does that whole philosophy of motherhood change! And Where does she get off thinking she can just change my rules and do whatever the sam hell she wants to do? Seriously...aaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Ok now that I have that off my chest...Mom could you babysit tomorrow please! hee hee