Smells like Douche

So I have started couponing like it's my job, mostly because I don't have a job, and well saving money I don't even have is a "good thing." Without getting into how using coupons work, you sometimes buy or get (for free) things you don't need or use. I either use them or donate them, this is what a local coupon guru has taught me and she is AWESOME!  If you are in Orlando, check out her blog, and go to a free coupon class http://www.couponersunited.com/ , her name is Mary and she is my hero!

The other day there was a deal that included toothpaste, toothbrushes, mouth wash and you got a FREE Summer Eve personal feminine wash (strange combo.)  This is a product I have never used or bought, in fact, I don't even use deodorant *GASP* don't worry I have taken a poll and no one has ever said I smell. It's a genetic thing, my father and one of my sister's don't use it either, and while my sister smells, my Dad does not...ha-ha she does not, but I know she reads this. So I came home with this cuca soap, put it in my shower and instantly forgot about it.

My sons have a perfectly good bathroom, with a fully functioning shower, but are for some reason compelled to use mine. The other day I was in the shower and decided to use the Summer's Eve ocean breeze cuca cleaner, and lo and behold it was empty! Just the same as the empty cereal box is placed back in the pantry- EMPTY!

All day every day, I tell my kids to stop calling each other "DOUCHE" but apparently I have been wrong, because they obviously been walking around smelling like Summer's Eve- what douches!

** If you would like to take part in my scientific poll and come sniff my arm pits, let me know. The compensation? DUH! Smelling my pit!

How did you find me?!?

This is how people have gotten to my blog via search engines, I think some may have actually been looking for me, others, may have been looking for who the HELL knows what!

1. Sex for fat old daddys from turky.com
2. Fat Chick
3. Former Fat Chick
4. Hairy Tongue
5. Dirty Chat Roulette
6. Fat Ass Mommas
7. Side Show Bob
8. Tahitian Bikin Wax
9. Don Bailey
10. Fat Chat Roulette

Number one really really scares me!

Who is looking for me? Top Countries who read my blog.

1. Unites States
2. Russia
3. Australia
4. Saudia Arabia
5. Egypt
6. Germany 
7. United Kingdom
8. Sweden 
9. Japan
10. State of the Vatican City

Number 10 really really scares me!

How Pumpkin Pie is really made...

I have never made a Pumpkin Pie....HELL, I have NEVER made a PIE!

This is my philosophy:

I am good at many, many things:

• dancing


• drinking vodka & tonic


• gossiping


• being funny


• trimming stinky squirming boy's toe nails


• whacking the right child in the back seat, while driving one handed and never taking my eyes off the road


• applying make up and face painting (for the chilrens) - they are not the same thing!


• Inspecting stinky boys after "baths" (includes but is not limited to: did you use soap? did you scrub with the wash cloth? did you put shampoo in your hair? Come here, let me sniff you)

I will have you know, that the above mentioned are just a few of my many talents. Don't get me wrong, I can cook.  As far as I can tell there is not a one starving person in my house (specially not me) and I make a sit down family dinner at least 4 nights a week. However, I do not pretend to be a professional, and it would be insulting to the true professional cooks, chef's and pastry people out there, that I purport that my cooking could compare to theirs, seriously they make a living at it!
So back to the topic, I have never made a Pumpkin Pie, imagine my surprise, when my girlfriend sent me this e-mail explaining how exactly Pumpkin Pies are made:



I think we will have Pecan pie at my house this year!

Still looking for a Turkey recipe?

With the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays coming up fast, I thought this might be a helpful hint.

Here is a turkey recipe that also includes the use of popcorn as a stuffing -- imagine that. When I found this recipe, I thought it was perfect for people like me, who just are not sure how to tell when poultry is thoroughly cooked, but not dried out. Give this a try.

8 - 15 lb. turkey
1 cup melted butter
1 cup stuffing (Pepperidge Farm is Good.)
1 cup uncooked popcorn (ORVILLE REDENBACHER'S LOW FAT) Salt/pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Brush turkey well with melted butter salt, and pepper. Fill cavity with stuffing and popcorn.

Place in baking pan with the neck end toward the back of the oven.

Listen for the popping sounds.

When the turkey's ass blows the oven door open and the bird flies across the room, it's done.

And, you thought I didn't cook...

Oprah and my boobs

If you have read this Blog you already know that my life is structured around the all mighty OOOOOOOOOOPRAAAAH (that's how I shout it out all sing songy like she does!) In fact, I am sure I lost my job during the last year of her show because I was meant to see her every day and not on DVR. I used to get her magazine (but it's so expensive, I no longer do) and read it cover to cover and try everything she loves. This is how I hurt my back trying that stupid Bikrahm Yoga, thanks to an article in her magazine! The list of things I have done in my life influenced by Oprah is extensive, and I have one more to add!

Remember the show where they gave everyone in the audience a Bra fitting and everyone was wearing the wrong size? Yeah, that. A couple of months ago I had an unused gift card from Dillards, that my middle sister gave me for my Birthday, so nice. I am not a big shopper, for years I worked for Mall Management and it takes a lot to get me in the Mall. After months of the gift card sitting in my wallet, and weeks of feeling like my bra didn't fit right I decided to go to Dillards and get a proper bra fitting.

I walked into the store, found the Lingerie Dept. and found an adorable young lady that had a name tag that said "Are you wearing the right size?" I told her I needed a fitting and we went straight back to the fitting rooms. She asked what size bra are you wearing? My reply? "I've been wearing a 38C for years!" At this point I was fully dressed she looked me right in the eye and said "Ma'am I'll tell you this much, you are NOT a C cup."

She asked me to take my top off and she pulled out her measuring tape, wrapped it around me a few times and announced: Let me pull a few bras and I will be back, let's find your size first and then we will choose what style you like.

OK....I stood there topless in my jeans and sandals in the dressing room, awkwardly starring at my self in a three way mirror under harsh fluorescent lights, thinking to myself- this was NOT a good idea, DAMN you middle sister!

She bounces back in holding a few options and says lets try this first it's a 36F. GASP! WHAT?!?  If it wasn't for the fact that I was topless I would have shoved her out of the way and ran out of the dressing room! She saw my face and said "Just try it on, we will work from there" I can see myself right now screaming and running topless through Dillards...hee-hee

I put it on, in a weird way she told me to and it was too big, but really by only a little. Next size, 36 E, Thank goodness, still a little big.

Finally we settled on a 36DDD, even though she insists that the E fit better. I inform her I am on a DIET and I am SURE my boobs will be shrinking very soon, Thank you very much and GOOD DAY!

I leave the store with my super expensive over the shoulder boulder holder- literally boulders, apparently my boobs are so much more GINORMOUS than I even knew. I called all my girlfriends because I was freaking out, to which one of their response was "OH, yeah, Porn Star BABY!" I was not amused.

The rest of the day I was thinking to myself, Damn you Oprah, you were right I was wearing the wrong bra size. But, how could I have been so off? What if I am wearing the wrong shoe size? It would be like trying to squeeze my size 9 feet into a size 6?! I was 3 cup sizes off. NO COMPRENDO.

I challenge you all to go get fit at a Department Store (not that sham of a store Victoria's Secret) and tell me, are you wearing the wrong size? I just really want to know if any of you are even more clueless about your bresticles than I am. Go, now, and get back to me.

Top 3 Words used in your home

So for some reason (probably because I am lame and have no job or anything to do) I have been thinking of the 3 most common used words in my home.

• I love you
• Honey, I'm home
• Be back later
• See you later
• Woman, feed me
• Walk the dogs
• Best Mom ever!
• Not even, bro!
• Shut your mouth
• Please stop talking
• Leave me alone
• I'm so hungry
• There's NO food!

All of these phrases are used incessantly in my home, not really, just the bad ones, not the nice ones. But, if I'm being honest this is what is most frequently yelled in my home:

GOOGLE THAT SHIT!

It is the correct response to all the following questions:

• What time's the movie?
• Is it going to rain?
• Mom is this a rash?
• Mom is this ring worm?
• Mom what's wrong with the dog?
• Mom who play that song?
• Honey, do I need to pack a jacket for my trip?
• How do I get there?
• When does Christmas break start?
• How do you spell...
• What is that book...
• Remember that movie, with that guy about that thing....

This list could go on and on and on but I find that all the never ending, persisting, incessant questions and queries from my kids and husband and almost anyone else in my life require only one answer:

GOOGLE THAT SHIT!

What do you think the top 3 words used in your home?

Spanx, not for the faint hearted

Most of you know, I grew up in Latin America and they take the whole panty girdle (what Spanx used to be called) to a while other level. I'm talking about female body armor, bounce a dime off your ass, dime flies across the room takes someone eye out level.

I started wearing these garments when I was 14, and I tell you I had the whole collection, head to toe. In fact I can honestly say my virginity was preserved far more by these undergarments, than my poor judgment.

As an adult I still love the company of these undergarments. However I must warn you, they are not for everyone.

Here are a few examples of my worst experiences in my love/hate relationship with Spanx.

I LOVE how they make me look in my clothes.

I hate how expensive they are.

I hate how long it takes my fat ass to wiggle into one.

I hate that my hubs once walked in on me trying to pull them up and he says he is scarred for LIFE.

I hate that no matter how carful you are, you always feel like someone can see them under your skirt when you sit down or go up steps, and how UN-sexy is that?

I hate that if you go dancing and have a few (OK, like 10) drinks and go to the ladies room, there is ZERO chance you are getting those suckers back up.

Or you can text your Hubs and tell him to come to the bathroom to help you, but your drunk so you text the wrong person "Come here and help me get my panties up, fucker!"

Yeah, I especially hate that one.

I hate that every time I wear them I can't stop thinking about how sausage is made.

I hate that that particular mental image makes me hungry for some kielbasa w/ sauerkraut.

I hate that one of the contraptions was SO like an Iron Maiden that I cut a "pee hole" in the crotch for the purpose of not having to text some random person from a bathroom for help.

And then the pice of crap ran like a bad pair of panty hose, when it cost me a small fortune.

Why not buy one with snaps in the crotch you ask? Yeah, been there- worn those, when you you make any sudden mov they SNAP open, disastrous.

What's a girl to do, beside get a body transplant? Keep wearing those suckers.

Fat and Sad

Fat and sad, such a lovely combination! I have a bum thyroid, actually I have some nasty nodules which keep growing....

Just so you know how it works, Dr.'s will start you on the lowest possible amount of medication, wait 8 weeks re-test you and see if it works or if you need a higher dose.

This is how it went for me.

.25 mg for 8 weeks, 1 weeks blood work, 1 more week to see the doc "oh, it's still low" which was about +5 lbs for me.

.50 mg for 8 weeks, 1 weeks blood work, 1 more week to see the doc "oh, it's still low" which was about +5 lbs for me.

.75 mg for 8 weeks, 1 weeks blood work, 1 more week to see the doc "oh, it's still low" which was about +5 lbs for me.

100 mg for 8 weeks, 1 weeks blood work, 1 more week to see the doc "oh, it's still low" which was about +5 lbs for me.

112 mg for 8 weeks, 1 weeks blood work, 1 more week to see the doc "oh, it's still low" which was about +5 lbs for me.

125 mg for 8 weeks, 1 weeks blood work, 1 more week to see the doc "oh, it's still low" which was about +5 lbs for me.

You do the MATH...over 1 year and 30 lbs...so now when it finally seemed to be working, when BAM the nodules grew.

The Doctor asked me if I am having any of the symptoms below:

Symptoms of Hypothyroidism

• Fatigue
• Weakness
• Weight gain or increased difficulty losing weight
• Coarse, dry hair
• Dry, rough pale skin
• Hair loss
• Cold intolerance (you can't tolerate cold temperatures like those around you)
• Muscle cramps and frequent muscle aches
• Constipation
• Depression
• Irritability
• Memory loss
• Abnormal menstrual cycles
• Decreased libido

Now as you may know I have been unemployed since January so, yes, I am irritable, depressed, I'm pale since being depressed prevents me from leaving the house, I eat all day and watch TV in bed, so yeah I've gained weight....

So yeah, I'm FAT and SAD, but I am not sure if it's because I cant get a job or because my thyroid is a pice of crap that does not work!

Now get this....they want to biopsy and remove the nodules, so if I ever DO get an interview I get to go with a big purple angry ribbon scar across my neck (I scar keloid)

I can imagine the HR person right now, hmmm candidate number one or the lady that looks like her throat got slit?

Why I need a JOB

So I have been unemployed since January 1st of this year. To say it sucks is so beyond an understatement, it redonkculous.

So I have come up with a few reasons why I really, really need a job.

1. I NEED money! I was never a stay at home Mom (could not afford to be) Never worked to pay off my charge cards or as a "fun" thing to do. I worked because I have always needed the money, still do.
2. Being unemployed at the same time I went from having 3 boys at home to only having 1 boy at home is the most depressing thing ever. Suffering empty nest syndrome and unemployment at the same time is shitty. My one remaining son goes to school full time, has a job, works out everyday and has a car, which means I see him twice a month, usually the day before he gets paid and is broke.
3. I have started watching HSN & QVC. I am days away from ordering a GenieBra, an ABRocker, and that shit Cindy Crawford uses on her face.
4. I can recite word for word every episode of Ice Loves Coco and I seriously love her.
5. My husband comes home for lunch every day becasue he wants to make sure I have not gone crazy, got out of bed, and actually took a shower.
6. Since I have no children to care for or dot on, I have become unnaturally obsessed with my dogs. Seriously, I am sure if I could breastfeed my puppy, I probably would, and well even I know that is JUST WRONG.
7. All I do all day long is EAT.
8. As much as I know the job market sucks, blah, blah, blah, sending 100 resumes out and not getting a single call back makes me feel like a BIG Loser, and not in a good way like the stupid weight loss show.
9. Sitting at home all day only makes me see how much my house sucks. I need new appliances, need new counter tops, need to remodel my bathroom, etc, etc, etc
10. Being unemployed gives me writers block.

Dear Casey Anthony- a letter from a Teen Mom

Dear Casey,

I don't like you. I don't understand anything about you. You see, I too was a teen Mom. In fact I was younger than you were when you had Caley. I was doubly stupid, because when my baby was 6 months old, I was already pregnant with my second baby.

I was in a bad marriage, so broke my children were on State provided medical insurance, we couldn't even afford to go to McDonald's, this is in NO WAY an exaggeration. My husband worked two jobs, he was gone six days a week from 2pm to 8am, I worked full time. On the one day we had a day off, we got to ride around in a car with no a/c (in Florida) and try and find something free to do.

I lived in a city with zero support system, no friends, no family, no one. On a good day, I would drop both my babies off at day care by 7:30 am and on my way to work I would fantasize about running away. Leaving and never coming back. On a bad day I thought about killing myself. I did never think of hurting them. I loved my children, still do. I am also truthful enough to accept that I resented my children, I often looked at them and knew I would have been so much better off without them. I can honestly say, I do not wish teen motherhood on my worst enemy.

I look at you and you lived at home with your parents who dotted on you and your child. They provided so much, that you didn't even have a job to support your daughter. You did what you wanted when you wanted, in my eyes you had it easy. Do I understand wanting to go out and party? Hell yes, I watched on jealously as my friends went off to college and partied their brains out hooking up with hot guys, while I was pregnant and changing diapers. It sucked.

What I cant get over is that all you had to do was get in your car and drive away. Your parents would have so obviously raised your child, and you would have been free to live your "bella vita" life.

In December of last year my house was broken into, in the middle of the day I came home to a burglarized home and could not find my dog Lulu. As I called 911, while running up and down the street screaming her name, I was sobbing and hysterical. I now laugh about this, since I found my dog, but in that moment I was devastated. I sounded like Nancy Kerrigan when they whacked her leg "WWWWHHHHHHHHYYYYYY, WHHHHYYYYY, why would they take my dog!" I can only hope the 911 operator was a pet owner so that she understand how heart broken I was.

When the not guilty verdict came down, I was so upset I did not speak the rest of the day. If you knew me, this fact alone would frighten you. I was so upset and all I could think about was that 911 call when I thought my dog as missing or hurt, the pain I felt, the devastation and heart break and how that was about MY DOG. My Dog, let alone a child. I just can't understand.

Sincerely,

FFC

P.S. Please don't procreate.

Dear Brian, I'm sorry

If you know me or have read my blog- you know I am out numbered. I live with my uber macho husband, my step son and my two sons, so when we got a dog, I put my foot down and we got a girl. Her name is Little Lulu and she is the daughter I never had, which I know sounds weird, but I'm 38 and my youngest is 18. I am teetering on the Empty Nest cliff- so it either act crazy about a dog or have a baby. You do the math.

We have been going back and forth over breeding Lulu since we got her, and she recently had her 3rd heat (not pretty, we fixed her a few days ago.) Unlike the other times she was in heat, she started to act very strangely, trying to hump everything, crying and all over the place emotionally (go figure.)

Of course the Hubs reaction? DO SOMETHING! You're a woman, help her.

I call the vet and explain (they know me very well in that office.) His advice? Get her a stuffed animal and let her take out some of her sexual needs on it. I SWEAR that is what he said.

Where am I going to find a giant teddy bear? And them I remembered something one of the mens I live with had in his room.

I run through the house flinging the doors open, looking for my solution. Found it! Grab it and yell at my son- I am confiscating this for Lulu and run out.

It was like a first date, I sat Brian down on a chair in the family room and let her walk by and check him out.

Second date- I move him to the floor and let her get a closer look and sniff.

Third Date- She looks at me and I give her the go ahead, the thumbs up, the YOU GO GIRL!

She drags Brain to her bed and BAM! Goes at it!

As we watch on as a family ( I know weird) there is giggling, red faces and cringing on my behalf.

Son #3 yells "DOGGIE STYLE!" Son #2 chimes in "Mom, Lulu is 69'ing poor Brain" Technically they were right.

That's it! The Hubs puts his foot down and makes us all leave the room and giver her some privacy, after all she is his little girl.

So Brian, I am sorry Lulu hit it and quit it.

Proof of the Crazy

The set up:

I was a young teenage girl, skinny with flowing straight light colored hair (white girl hair,) I was also bullied and tortured in school. Why? Because I was a genius! A math and science geek! If you haven't figured it out, this was a dream. Any who...I devised a plan for revenge- it involved stealing chemical warfare and dynamite. What? Yeah I know... then on a school field trip, to some caves (how convenient.) I dump the chemicals and blow up the mouth of the cave- therefore trapping and killing everyone inside! Violent much?

Now for the spy portion- I was also supposed to be in the cave- so I needed a new identity. I cut my hair super short and donned some boy jeans and a plaid shirt- an voila, I was a boy, very much like in Hilary Swank "Boys Don't Cry".

The hot part of the dream- Part of my new identity is being James Franco's male roommate- however we are really lovers *SCORE* We were so happy while it lasted!

The nightmare portion- I come home early to find my man James Franco making out with a voluptuous tall Latina- Sophia Vergara type- oh the horror! In true soap opera style I yell over and over "what does she have that I don't have"

Freaky portion- She whips open her wrap dress and has some big ole hairy man junk! AHHHHH! That's what she had that I didn't have.

Just then Lulu wakens me to go pipi at 3am- I was happy she did so-Back to sleep

Lucid dream- my true talent- when I go back to sleep- the penis having Sophia Vergara is gone- James Franco and I are happily married and Lulu has just had puppies!

Yes, best dream ever.

3 wise men?

Today is Three Kings Day, the day the Magi arrived or the Epiphany, having lived in Latin America and having worked for a Catholic School, I have celebrated this day many times over.

However, this year, I sit at home watching Hoda and Kathie Lee, looking for a new job on-line (yeah, because there ARE tons of jobs out there) and waiting for the Alarm company to show up and install an alarm system, in my recently burglarized home.

I have not blogged in a long time, I have a bad case of the BLAH'S and if you know me, well, sometimes my BLAH's are rather severe.

I will be catching up with you all soon, and telling you all about the horrible, hysterical things that have been going on in my life.

But for today, 3 kings day I leave you with this greeting card that my friend and neighbor Mary (the coolest Senior Citizen I know!) sent me:

When Men bake

If my husband could or would bake, I am sure this is what the final product would look like:

For one exception- they would be HUGE, as we all know: My Man likes BIG BUTTS and arroz con pollo thighs....

My Beloved Husband

So I make fun of him at times (all the time.) On occasion I rag on him (constantly.) I have even been known to close my eyes, bob my head and make the noise the adults in the Peanuts cartoons make (endlessly) when he is trying to bitch at me, I mean talk to me. Let me not leave out that when he is talking to me from the other room I respond "yes dear" while giving him the middle finger salute, I kid, I kid: Honey, if you are reading this- I NEVER do that. Really.

However, I really do love that man- as much as I threaten to hit him over the head with a HUGE frying pan one day (soon.) He is so sweet and loving. So I decided to tell you 3 things I love about him, so you don't think that I married him for his looks, because we all know the MAN is a DAMN FINE PIECE OF ASS.

1. He tries to keep the lights and noise to a minimum when he goes to work every morning (early) so Lulu and I can sleep as long as we like. He makes sure we are tucked in before he leaves.
2. On cold mornings, he runs the space heater in the bathroom, so that when I wake up and get in the shower the bathroom is nice and toasty.
3. He sincerely loves my butt, is enthralled by it, mesmerized- no mater HOW BIG it gets.

Ladies and gays- that is a GOOD man.

You may ask yourself, why does he LOVE her? Because- Mama let's him have his toys.
Mama also has a great insurance policy on him, since the man rides sans helmet.

Need a MAN TRAINER

OK, so here is the thing, this dog is super cute, right? When I watch this video all I can think of is- why the F*ck can't my kids or husband do any of these tricks?!? Maybe I need to get more dogs, hire a trainer and live happily ever after!

Halloween Safety Alert!

Remember when your mother told you never to take Candy from Strangers?

This is who she was talking about!



HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

HOT ASIAN CHICK!

OK, the title is totally a ploy to get traffic here-

No, but really I met a Super hot Asian woman! On Friday, I went to this Woman's group that focuses on connecting professional, ambitious, influential women. I totally had them fooled thinking I was one of them- you know professional, influential, yeah right!!

Moving along, while there I meet this woman- she looks like that Judge on the dancing show, this one:


I mean she is just adorable. Wait- we talk, she is hilarious- a few more minutes and she moves from the 1 glass of white wine that came with lunch- sits at the bar and orders a Martini- I think I blacked out for a minute- that she is a vodka LOVER, like me! Get this: she is a plastic surgeon. Really, a very smart, reputable, semi famous Plastic Surgeon.

She is married to a plastic surgeon as well, and they love dogs. I may become a TV produce next week and pitch them as a new reality show- no really, finally I could get MY 15 minutes of fame.

You know what she says to me?"People ask me if I am a nail tech all the time!"and busts out laughing-this is how funny she is.

My sister knows her, so when I get home my sis and I chat about the luncheon and how awesome it was (she was not able to go, well, because she sucks and would not drive up from Miami) She finally asks: So, did you meet Dr. Liu (not her real name.)

My response? OH MY GOD! I love her, if I was one of those aliens form that movie about POD People (Invasion of the Body Snatchers), I would TOTALLY choose HER to take over her human body!

Yeah- took it a little into the weird zone there.

Wait, just had an idea- maybe we could do a Reality TV show, where her husband and she just basically operate on me from head to toe- so much so that not even the HUBS would recognize me!

If any of you readers know MY doctor Liu, you better not steal this show idea form me!

Ass crack of dawn

Why am I nodding off at 8pm tonight? Friday night? I should at a Happy Hour living it up. Instead of boozing I am almost snoozing. Why? Well I got up at the ass crack of dawn, only one thing could make me rise at 6am, and that would be one of my baby boys.

Today was Senior Toga day and I sent my baby off to school looking like this
Welcome to the Toga GUN SHOW bitches!
All HAIL to the King!

Baby of the Family

The school secretary stood at the door whispering to my teacher, there were a few words exchanged and some nods. I was told to collect all my things; I was going home for the day. As I walked down the hall with this grown up I hardly knew, there was silence, I was too afraid to ask what was going on. My assumption was I was in trouble, but as the consummate bad seed and ring leader, there was a myriad of deeds left undiscovered for which I could be in trouble for. I knew enough to keep my mouth shut.

When she saw I was not going to ask any questions, she simply stated: A driver has been sent to take you home; your sister will be going with you. I walked to the bottom of the hill where the car would be, just outside the gates of the school. My sister and her best friend were both there waiting for the car. They were in the 9^th grade and infinitely cooler than anyone I knew. My sister’s book bag was on the floor between her blue Nike tennis shoes, and her friends arm was wrapped around her shoulder. Their heads were resting on each other and when I came near and they turned towards me, their eyes were red and damp; they had been crying. I knew it was really bad, and perhaps I was not in trouble at all. Only my sister and I got in the car, her friend stayed behind and waved to us as we disappeared down the steep hill, the only thing my sister said was that Mom and Dad would talk to me when we got home. I don’t remember much else, only my parents sitting all three of us down on their bed and telling us Mom had a brain tumor. They did not know if it was benign or malignant or if they could remove it, blah,blah blah…a whole bunch of stuff that went over a kid who was still in Elementary school’s head. They were leaving to New York tomorrow, relatives would be taking turns coming to stay with us, and Mom’s friends would keep an eye on us. They had no idea how long they would be gone.

Of course, my Mother needed to get her hair done that afternoon because she was going to ride an airplane the next day (I know, insane.) She let me tag along to the Salon, I sat on the chair next to her while they cut, set, dried, teased and combed out her hair. During that whole time she talked non-stop to her hair dresser, as he lovingly listened, and that’s how I learned to the whole story of my mother’s tumor. He wore tight jeans and Italian loafers with no socks, his hair was shoulder length and look so soft, it would bounce when he would nod his head in agreement with my Mother, I knew if I inhaled while he did this, I might get a whiff of his hair. I felt like an intruder in an intimate ritual my mother was having with her gay hair dresser. I tried hard to sit still and be quite, lest they remember I was sitting there and banish me to the lobby with the HOLA (Spain’s Hello) Magazines that were yellowed with age and spoke of European royalty that were non-existent in my life.

Both my sister’s were in high school and I was sure they were given a lot more information than I was and as the baby of the family you get used to being “protected” from certain truths. A common complaint amount the youngest children in a family. The other day I was thinking of this and had the sudden realization that perhaps my Mother understood that I needed to know what was going on with her and this was her roundabout way of letting me in on the big secrets of her sickness.

to be continued....the poor Granma's who had to stay with us, menopause should NOT feel like a brain tumor and how I learned to drive at 11.

The Big O

No not Orgasm, not Obama....OPRAH.

I like Oprah, I got the magazine for a year and then drove my self crazy trying to do all the crap in it, like Bikram Yoga (yeah, that was moronic of me) any who....

If I happen to be home, I'll watch it, but it's not like I am crazy about the show.

The HUBS on the other hand can't stand the show. It's not so much that he hates Oprah, he thinks she's OK, it's the women in the audience he can't stand.

He told me one day he was watching it and she gave something away and the women went APE SHIT! Crying, screaming, jumping up and down, hugging each other. It really freaked him out. He said it was like mass hysteria. He has always been afraid of women in groups of 5 or more. He says women have been in grained to be repressed their whole lives, so when they get in a pack (even worse if alcohol is involved) they got NUTSO! I usually ignore these theories of his.

By the way, he was not talking about the time she gave a car away, he admitted he would have wet himself if he had been in the audience. He said it was like a Ipod or some crap that mostly people already have, in no way life altering.

In honor of the HUBS, his awesomeness and our 20th wedding anniversary which was 2 weeks ago and I didn't even get him a card (yet he still got me 1 and FLOWERS.) I present to you this awesome BLOG of moslty crazy women (I use this term crazy, lovingly since I am the Queen of all crazies)

Faces of the Last Season of Oprah

Enjoy babies, enjoy...

I have a DREAM

I have a dream- it might sound crazy to you, but to me it is Nirvana, Shangri-la, Kismet, in other words- the SHIZNIT!

I would be a stay at home Mom, to my current kids, 18 & 19.

I would have a cleaning lady, who WOULD do windows, iron and love my dog and her incessant shedding, oh, and she would be at my house ever day, and unlike Brit-Brit's cry baby bodyguard, would NOT freak out if she saw me naked (she would have to restrain herself, 'cause I'm not into that.)

The Hubs would still work, giving me at least 8 hours a day to read, watch TV, nap, chat on the phone and fart around on the internet. I would NOT need to go to the gym, because in this dream- I am basically Sofia Vergara with much less of an accent, but all o' the Latina Flavor.

Oh yeah, I can EAT what ever the HELL I want and look perfect.

My hair is A-MAH-Zing!

My boobs, forget it, no need for a bra, ever- perfection.

Everyone loves me (that is nothing new)

I still live in my regular house, but- I have new bathrooms and a new kitchen.

I would also have a new patio/pool area with a fire pit and a cabana, OK, OK, OK, a cabana/pool boy- but you can make him gay- he's only to look at! OH! He could be an ex masseur! oh, I like that.

Wait! I could drink cocktails all damn day long and it wouldn't be bad for me, oh and I would need some besities to be able to lounge around with me. YES! and a big ole cool car we could drive to lunch in and annoy the crap out of people with our cackling and occasional snorts!

OK, readers, figure out how you can make this happen for and get back to me- chop-chop, I'm counting on you!

I must keep the same HUBS, so no bumping him off in your plan, I happen to like him and I got 20 years of training in that one, a large investment of time, I tell you!

The Hubs version of Drunken Debauchery night

That is what the Hubs started calling last week's GNO- Drunken Debauchery night.

So here is his version of the night.

He arrived home at 7:30 pm to find there was already 1 friend in the house and 1 bottle of wine open. He walked in with a bag of Publix fried chicken (his favorite thing in the whole world.) He said "hi" left the bags in the kitchen and went to hide in his room. His plan was to wait until everyone left, so he could then devour his said friend chicken in peace.

He grew angrier and angrier as time went by. He was starving and all he could here was more women arriving, more screaming and laughing, he says we laugh like this: QUA-QUA-QUA-QUA- shriek! Like a giant chicken, crossed with a goose, with a witches cackle. I can not disagree.

We finally left at 9:30. He had to pick one of the son's up from work at 11:30pm, so he decided it was pointless to go to bed, since I had said I would be home by midnight. Midnight came and went, and he of course was worried (he is fatalist.) He made a decision that he would NOT call or text me, so I could have fun on my GNO. So when we stumpled in at 2:00 am he was relieved, but had not slept a wink in his worry mode. He was not happy when 4 of us came back to the house, everyone needed a glass of water, to use the bathroom and get thier stories straight before they went home, I kid, I kid. He says there was more QUA-QUA-QUA'ing and doors opening and shutting over and over.

When I finally made it to bed, I promptly feel asleep, he claims I passed out. I say pish-posh. He then says later, he said to me: Move the dog, she is digging in to my back. To which my response was: ALERT!

Move the dog!- again FFC- ALERT!

Please just wiggle to dog over- FFC- ALERT!

He gave up. My question was, why did you wake me up to move the dog? Why didn't you roll over and move her yourself. he had no answer for that question.

At 4am, when he says he had not slept a wink he got up and asked where I had sleeping pills, he needed one.

My response- In the GPS.

He was frustrated and asked again- Not the GPS, where are your sleeping pills.

My response- OMG, in the GPS!

He tried a new approach and asked me in Spanish. To which he say's my response was very angry (I'm scarier in Spanish) - I ALREADY TOLD YOU IN THE &@^@^@!!* GPS!

At that point he gave up and I am assuming he fell asleep.

The hubs version of Girls Night out- ALERT! (don;t ask, I have no idea!)

Texts from last night

I am sure many of you have heard or even visited the site- texts from last night. It is basically a compilation of texts that college kids, 20 somethings, singles send each other in an inebriated state. Yeah, I know, not that funny when you are 38, have kids, are married and have every other responsibility there is to have in the world.

Well, not really funny until last night. Last night you ask? Yes, last night was a GNO (for those you don't speak the lingo- Girls Night Out) Well, since I have been on this killer diet and not had a drink in forever, my plan was to have 2 cocktails and tuna tataki at dinner, that was it.

Suffice to say- THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN! The plan was to meet at my house at 7 and all go from there. Some people were late (I blame the night on them) 2 bottles of wine were polished off before we even left the house at 9:30. There were 5 of us and 1 was the designated driver, you do the math. I had 1 drink with dinner, but by that point I had already texted my GF (who was working) "I'm wated" that's drunky for wasted. Her response- YESSSSSSS! That's how we roll.

We then went to the bar across the street, it was packed, the music sucked and it was full of weird men and young bimbos. We had an awesome time. At some point we, started texting one of the girls husbands.

A lot of "we're totally wasted MOFO" and a little "get ready for ur horny wife f*cker" that sort of intellectual banter, I am so famous for. He of course, replied all sorts of silliness to us and egged us on, most of which I CAN NOT put here!

The funny lies in 2 particular texts.

first at 1:15 to the GF's hubs (and I have no idea why this phrase was sent) "your wife loves my hoohaa"

second text was sent by the also inebriated GF all on her own "ur bitch be krzy" which makes no sense at all because she was talking about herself at that point. However, she did NOT send it to her husband, she sent it to someone who has the same fist name as her husband. Someone I work with, some one who is married- yeah, married to a woman that does not particularly like me.

Same name guy from worked called me this morning and I had to explain- how is it that the kids say- EPIC FAIL!!! Thankfully he laughed, and was smart enough to see my story was true (really hard to believe- me drinking!? never!) As far as his wife- wateve.

When the GF finally got home and rolled into bed, waking her hubs to the promised drunk wife hornyness, he asked:

What is a HOOHA?

Bwa-hahahaha- her reply- is a *meow* stupid. you know the word, I don't use it, that why I say hooha.

Introducing Snazzy Napper!

Ladies and Blog readers, I present to you to most insane item since the Snuggie for your dog!

The Snazzy Napper! You are supposed to tie this thing that looks like a blanket with a hole for your nose around your head to sleep privately in public. I personally have no problem zonking out anywhere, mouth open, head bobbing, drool a flowing, I just don't give a shit. I do however carry a pretty pink silk sleep mask with me on flights, mostly to look cute. Now there are small ones and then large ones that look like a tent for men and a burka for women. WHAT SORT OF FREAK would wear that in public? Wait....what sort of freak would wear that in their bedroom? Don't answer...freaks.

What the boys think about Twilight

When I say the boys, I mean the 22 year old, the 19 year old and the 18 year- oh yeah, and especially the HUBS...

How my BLOG = $2000

The day my husband left town and took my car, his car decided to SCREW ME OVER. As I left my office at 5:40pm in the 104 degree heat. I insert the "key" the kind that are square electric things and push in (this usually starts the car.) Nothing. Try again. ZIP. Again. ZERO. Again. ZILCH. One last time. NADA.

I try to pull the key out- the car won't let it go. I pull, I pry, I use a pen from my purse to try and use it as a lever to pop it out (I am totally crafty like that.) NOTHING.

I leave the key in the car I go up to my office (everyone is gone by that time) I Google key stuck car won't start with the model of the car. All these suggestions come up, I read them, I go down and try them all. Wiggle the wheel, hit the brake and push the shift button 3 times. NO WORKY. I call the roadside assistance, they will be here in an hour. I have to be there when they show up- super long story short I get home at 9pm. Not fun.

Oh wait, the awesome news is that the car is JUST out of warranty. I call the dealer the next day. They call me back at 5pm on Friday to say it will be $1500, something about 2 computers in the steering column, but they are going to give me a loaner to help me out. I pick up the loaner on Saturday, and tell them to fix the car, I mean really, what other option is there?

They call me Tuesday, still not fixed, but, some other computer thingy is screwed up and it's another $500. OK, fix it. Wednesday morning I call the car manufacturer-speak to a customer service rep and tell her the whole story, including how much we paid for that car (an obscene amount) and then I drop 2 very interesting tid bits

1. I goggled steering wheel problems with the car year and model (tons of complaints) and there was even someone soliciting info for a class action lawsuit. Go figure.
2. I am a "blogger" and I truly understand the power of on-line complaining and how 1 unhappy customer can have a domino effect, blah, blah, blah.

She asked me to give her 1 day and she would call me back and let me know if and what she could do for me. Fair enough.

She calls back Thursday, she does not have an answer yet, asks for 1 more day. Fine. I had been a sweetheart until this point, but boy was I ready to get down and dirty over this one.

By the way, the car was still not ready yet. She calls me Friday afternoon and tells me they will cover EVERYTHING. Not some, not half- EVERYTHING! I was blown away.

For a moment I thought of keeping this INFO to myself and pocketing the $2000- how would my husband ever know? I could have bought something extravagant, like diamond earrings and tell them the were FAKE, if he ever asked! bwa-hahaha- but then I didn't, I am such a good wife.

The car was finally ready on Tuesday, after 13 days. When I picked it up and returned the FREE loaner, the tech told me: Ma'am I am not sure what you said, but I have NEVER seen them pick up the tab for anyone!

Hurray for me, hurray for my blog, hurray from smart mama power!

Need $500?

Could you use $500 worth of new clothes?

Check out my new post on how!

Show me the MONEY!

Hodge Podge

So I have been super lazy- it may be the heat, it may be because it's summer or more likely because well, I'm lazy in general, so sorry for not posting.

The HUBS is out of town for almost 2 weeks! Crazy! I thought I was going to be living it up and have girls night out EVERY night...He left on Wednesday evening so far this is all the exciting stuff I have done:

Wednesday: Watched a DVD- Hachi: A Dog's Tale (stars Richard Gere) OK, if you are SICK and want to torture yourself, cry and make your stomach hurt as well as rip you heart out- then this is a must see flick for you! If not, send it to someone you HATE sit back and giggle.

Thursday: Was using the HUBS car, as he left mine in Miami (where he left from on his trip) when I tried to leave work, his car would not start and it wouldn;t let the key come out (it was stuck in the ignition.) Called road side assistance, waited 1.5 hours, got a ride home.

Friday: Still no car. Took oldest son's car to the movie with youngest son and friends: watched Despicable me. It was hilarious-son kept on telling met o keep it down- he is totally embarrassed by my cackling!

Saturday: Got a ride to car dealer and they gave me a loaner- yeah, because my car is out of warranty and they are charging me $1500 to fix it. Isn't that so sweet of them?

So, my goodness, there has been so much exciting and adventure- I can barely stand it...oh yeah, did I mention the water heater broke? Yeah, I am ignoring it and taking very short showers (at least is like 110 degrees outside so that water is not that cold) It took the 18 year old 4 days to notice we had no hot water. Guess what that means...yep, he hadn't bathed for 4 days....ewwwwwwwwwww, boys.

However I have sleeping at least 10 hours a day! haha, that is wonderful and I also have been watching all the TV shows I want to watch but the HUBS hates:

You're cut off!
Discovery Health- Half Ton Mom, Dad, Teen, etc
Discovery Health- Baby's Story
Snapped!
Cheaters
Teen Mom
At least 8 hours straight of HGTV
Another 8 of the Food Network

Oh, not to mention all the movies!

The Women
Grey Gardens
InkHeart (that one was stupid)
Cop Out (ok, my son made me watch this. Hello! Tracy Morgan is hysterical!)
Temple Grandin (amazing)

Do not fret all is not lost- I am currently trying to recruit anyone in going with me to a drag queen show on Saturday and luring a gay aquaintance over (who I wish to make my official gay) for Horror Movie Night marathon...I will let you know how it goes.

On another note, I went to but gas in the stupid rental and saw this:


Who the HELL do they think they are marketing to? Really!? Ladies, do you "power up" with a GIANT ASS SODA? When you think of yourself as a "super mom" do you envision giant round boobies and a down to there neckline? Do those giant ass soda's make your biceps hard? What is going on here?

Summer Blockbuster?

OK, so guess who did this very lame fake poster all by herself?! That's right, MOI!

Girl, I got some skills! In other news, you don't even want to know what I think Mel Gibson deserves as punishment. Let's just say it involves lashes and rusty nails...no, no, no! I kid, I kid!

PHD in IBA- inner bad ass

I found this picture on-line a few months ago- I had to save it. Unfortunately I did not save where I got it from so I could credit it them (sorry!)

I just felt the need to save it. I was not sure why it resonated so much with me.

I think now I do- I am this Panda.

How you say? Really a Panda?

Yes- I look cute and furry- fluffy and chubby- sweet and doe eyed. However, very few people know my inner bad ass.

I am lethal and not nice, at all.

The other day I was having a conversation with The Hubs, playing out a situation- and becasue this blog is no longer anonymous I won't get into details, but it went like this:

Me: They do not want me on their bad side, hence they will play nice. They know it is in their best interest to keep me somewhat happy. The don't want to paint me into a corner, it will get ugly.

The HUBS: Honey, they have NO idea about your bad side.

Just then I saw the Panda.

I never pick a fight, I am non-confrontational in all aspects of my life, direct but non-confrontational. I do however have one deadly trait- I don't get involved unless I can go for the jugular and finish it. If I need to, I do not hesitate and I got for that jugular- I don't hold back.

There fore I am that Panda- huge inner bad ass- HUGE- I would say as big as my fat ass!

My baby is LEGAL!

So today is the first day that everyone in my household is over 18 (except Lulu, she is 14 in dog years.)

Yesterday my baby, my youngest son, turned 18.

It is so strange, I can remember the day he was born like it was yesterday. He was a planned c-section, I was a high risk pregnancy- I have a mitral valve prolapse and my first son had been an emergency c-section- which I guess made me high risk. I was 20, which now seems like a child to me.

My pregnancy was healthy, if stressful, I had already had a baby, was a newly wed and now had ANOTHER unexpected pregnancy- we moved to the States on Valentines day 1992, Stevie was born in July.

As his birth was planned, the doctor offered to schedule the c-section for the 4th of July, that year it was a Saturday. HELL NO! I wanted to see the fireworks! Besides my husband HAD to work on the 4th. That 4th of July I walked all the monuments in DC, stayed on the mall for the fireworks then took the subway home, something I now view as complete INSANITY as I was going to give birth in 2 days.

Sunday I rested during the day, and looked forward to a night with my husband. My husband worked nights, in fact he worked 2 jobs 4-12, then 12- 8am. Since we were having a baby on Monday, he had Sunday night off. We had a nice dinner at home, even thou my cooking skills at that point were truly atrocious, it was nice to be together. I was a treat to go to bed at the same time, but we didn't get any sleep! ha-ha I know my kids have no interest in this blog, but we had sex, lots of sex that night.

We were at the hospital at 5am- Stevie was born at about 7am. We were there alone, we had no friends, no family- we only had my parents and they stayed home to take care of our 15 month old son. My husband was 24, he was not in his own country and had limited English (which was worse when he was nervous.) I was knocked out by the anesthesia (something I hate, since I clearly remember seeing Alex the moment he was born and crying I was so happy to see him.)

My youngest son was born with polysyndactyly- on his hands and feet. He had extra digits, fused fingers and toes (with bone, tissure and blood vessels) and webbing. My husband was told as far as congenital birth defects presented themselves, his polysyndactyly was severe and was found in many complex and sometimes lethal groups of anomalies or syndromes. I at the time was out cold. I can honestly tell you that moment affected the rest of his life- the feeling of helplessness. His congenital birth defects- were all physical- it turned out to NOT be part of any syndrome- of which Down's was bantered about. Do you know how long genetic testing on medicaid took to get results, let alone see a specialist? Six months. Six months we held our breath.

The moment I saw Stevie, I knew he was going to be fine. I may have been girlish naivety or it may have been a mother's intuition, or more likely a survival mode. By the time he was in the 1st grade Steve had 7 surgeries, most before he was 2. At one point he had simultaneous surgery on all extremities, with an IV in his neck, he was tied to a crib in the hospital- it was gut wrenching. They had taken skin grafts from his pelvic area for his fingers and toes- For skin grafts to take, you have to be immobile. How do you immobilize an 10 month old baby? You put casts on him from finger tip to shoulder, elbow bent, from tip toe to upper thigh, knee bent. The fist few crucial days, you tie him to a hospital crib, lest his finger tips rip out the IV in his neck. AS I write this, I can tell you I honestly forgot how bad it was. Except that time, I was on the burn victim unit, because of space constraints. DC children burn unit- if you ever want to feel lucky in life- go there. If you ever think your kid is a pain- go see a child being treated for burns- you will see what PAIN is. the older he got the worse the surgeries were- when your baby can tell you he is so much pain and ask why over and over, you just want to die.

This post could go on forever- every surgery could be a book- I never think about it- once in a while someone who doesn't know our history will ask me about Stevie's scars and I will tell them about it. And it seems so foreign to me- such a past life. I forget how much my child has suffered- truly suffered. As a toddler, he would see anyone in a white coat, let's say an optometrist at the Mall and he would scream and run the other way! It has been easy to spoil him and treat him like the baby, even though he is only 15 months younger than my first born. When I tell people, after they ask- they always say- you were so young, wow- I admire all you did- you're amazing- to which my answer is mostly certainly- What other option did I have? Run away? Not care for my child? Not fight tooth and nail with every fucking Insurance company we ever had? Oh yeah, once we got insurance, because I was pregnant when I can to the US and could get Insurance- he was born uninsured. Not battle doctors, nurses and pharmacies to make sure my son got what he needed? Was it an option to go to bed and cover my head with a pillow and never come out? My friend laughed the other day and she said- yes! Some people do!

This was taken last night- my little trooper turned 18