My first job after having Eeyore was at a collection agency. I had stayed home from work for nearly two years when we realized that no, we can’t actually afford this, are you fucking kidding me? So, I got a job. It actually paid pretty decently, and would have paid even better had I ever collected anyone’s money and gotten the bonus they kept dangling in front of me as an incentive for being an uncaring bitch who wouldn’t take no for an answer. I vaguely remember some sort of cheer we did every Friday morning about it being payday for the scumbags who owed us money. It was a warm and loving environment to work in, that’s for sure.

Anyway, I flashed back on this job today as I pulled up to a four-way stop on the way home from pre-school. You see, that four-way stop? It was where I died.

Less than a week into my new job and I was on my way home from work. One of the guys that worked there was in the other lane right next to me as we pulled up to this four-way stop (should four-way have a hyphen?). I get nervous at four-way stops anyway, but to have this guy that I barely know sitting next to me? It was awkward. So, I look over and kind of wave at him, like “hi, I’m a total douchebag who gets freaked out at four-way stops and panics about whose turn it is, oh god, is it MY turn, no, your turn, SHIT!” and the asshole revved his engine at me. Because I am a complete and utter moron I thought “Oh, wow, he’s cool. I’ll just rev my engine back at him and then we’ll be best friends forever,” only SURPRISE! I DON’T KNOW HOW TO REV MY ENGINE.

So, I floored it. I just, you know, stepped on the gas. That’s how you rev an engine, right? Only first you put it in neutral or step on the brake with your other foot, you idiot, and I forgot that part. So, there I am, all nervous at the four-way stop, during rush hour, next to my new co-worker and I wave at him and then FLOOR IT out into the middle of the road when it WASN’T MY TURN and everyone starts honking at me and BAM! I DIED.

Not from the impact of hitting another vehicle, because by some lucky twist of fate, I didn’t hit another car, but I died all the same. From the embarassment.

So, what’d you do this morning? How lovely.

Me? Oh, you know, the usual. Questioned suspects, wore a bullet proof vest, and staked out the preschool. Completely normal day for your average stay at home mom.

Yeah. So. Today.

Let’s back up, shall we?

This morning the kids and I hopped in the minivan to take Cindy-Lu to preschool. AT A CHURCH. Where the people are good! And churchy!

I pretty much NEVER drive the van anywhere, because, well, it’s a van and Cleatus’s car is infinitely more cool and it uses less gas. Today, for some weird reason, we took the van. The big, shiny, hard not to notice minivan.

I pulled on to the road for the preschool and instead of turning into my usual parking lot spot, I parked on the road opposite of the parking lot. Then I left Eeyore in the car and walked Cindy-Lu into school.

Anyway, long story long, some asshole backed out of the parking lot and bumped into my van WITH MY CHILD IN IT, ALL ALONE, OH GOD, and then he drove off! WHAT KIND OF CHURCHY PEOPLE DO I ASSOCIATE WITH, ANYWAY? Asshole.

Now, obviously this man wasn’t thinking, because he had just dropped his child off at preschool and GEE, SOMEONE HAS TO COME BACK AND PICK HER UP IN 2 HOURS! Asshole.

So, I called the cops, an officer came and staked the place out with me. I had to wear a bullet proof vest JUST IN CASE (you know how those churchy people can get!) (I’m totally kidding, I didn’t wear a bullet proof vest. ) (But, I did have to hide in the bushes with binoculars.) (No, not really.). The police officer and I questioned every parent driving a big truck and boy, was that fun! I made so many new friends today. I’m sure they’ll be calling me for playdates any time now!

Finally, TEN MOTHEREFFING MINUTES LATE FOR PICK UP (Hoping to avoid me, were you? Asshole.), some guy in a big silver truck pulls up to pick up his kid. The first thing out of his mouth was “Oh, I guess I bumped someone this morning, huh?” YEAH. Asshole. We generally stop and exchange insurance information after an accident, but just DRIVING OFF works too. ASSHOLE.

So, we exchange information and he apologizes and tells me that he had NO IDEA he had hit anyone. He felt a bump, but when he looked? He didn’t see anything back there! Because my MINIVAN is so mini you can’t even see it. Asshole. And I’m sure he didn’t hear the big crunch that people halfway across the parking lot heard. Also, he didn’t see the van ROCKING AROUND and FLINGING MY BABY TO THE FLOOR (okay, so he wasn’t actually flung to the floor, but he ALMOST fell out of his seat)! Asshole!

So, yeah, the moral of this story is this: People are assholes.

The bullets! They are back!

• Today I went to the shoe store and made Eeyore try on fifty pairs of shoes and then we both finally agreed on a pair that weren’t A.) too expensive, B.) horrendously ugly and C.) too difficult for him to get on and off of his precious little feet. I went up to the register and I waited. Then I waited some more. About five minutes later I was about to start screaming when someone walked up and thanked me for waiting. I was too angry to tell her it was no problem. I just did that fake grimace-smile thing that I do when I hate your guts and wish you were dead. Then she rang the shoes up and they cost $70 and I had a stroke because every other pair of shoes I looked at were under $40 and most pairs were $29, but apparently the Nike’s that we finally agreed upon were made out of golden unicorn shit or something because SEVENTY AMERICAN DOLLARS. So, all that waiting just so I could shout JESUS CHRIST, ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS? and she said no, they were $70 and I said NO THANK YOU, HAVE A NICE DAY and I shot her that grimace-smile I do and wished she was dead.
• I went to Sears to buy some shoes today because the shoe store shoes were too expensive (see bullet 1) and they didn’t have ONE EFFING PAIR in Eeyore’s size so I gave up on finding shoes and went to buy socks for him and Cleatus and then I died when I realized that I paid $21 for 16 pairs of socks that were not even name brand or fancy and didn’t have any swoops or anything on the ankles. When did socks get so expensive?
• When did I get so cheap?
• I didn’t blog yesterday and have officially failed at writing every day for thirty days and I was so stressed out about this last night that I almost couldn’t sleep and once I even got completely out of bed and stood there in the dark contemplating getting my laptop and just POSTING. But then I decided fuck that noise, quality is better than quantity and if I don’t have anything to say maybe I should just go to sleep. So, I lied back down and I had a brilliant post idea. But then I fell asleep and now I don’t remember what it was.
• I was all thinking ahead and stuff today so I stopped and got $20 out of the ATM so that I could order our dinner from this little place that delivers but doesn’t take the debit card and I was so proud of myself for remembering to get money. Then I got home and our lawn mower boy was here and guess what? He expected me to give him $20 so now my entire family is going to starve because I’m a douche bag who fails at life.
• I signed Eeyore up for a speech class and ohmigod he is totally going to knife me in my sleep. He is the most quiet little boy ever and lately I have been making him SPEAK UP, MAMA IS OLD AND SHE CAN’T HEAR YOU, but he doesn’t really listen and so he just mumbles all the time and it’s seriously driving me insane. So as punishment practice, I signed him up for a local homeschool speech class and he’s going to have to give speeches. To people. Out loud. It makes me cringe and get all nervous feeling for him because I know how hard it will be for him, but it also makes me giggle a little, because dude, he needs to learn how to speak the eff up. And I know speech class isn’t really about talking loudly, but I’m hoping the teacher will help him just be more comfortable speaking AT ALL, because seriously. He doesn’t talk much.
• I have plans to clean the hell out of my house this weekend. Like, really scrub it and stuff, so all week long I’ve let stuff pile up and my bathroom smells like pee and the garbage is overflowing and I haven’t folded laundry in a month and I just keep pretending it’s okay because lalalalala, going to clean this weekend! This weekend is going to suck.

I’m over here today making you drool. You’re welcome or I’m sorry, whichever fits.

NaBloPoMo can suck it. This is Sunday! The day of rest! It’s also a holiday weekend! You aren’t actually sitting at your computer reading this. You are out enjoying your holiday.

And, yet. Here I am. Blogging. Because I said I would. Because I am a total douche.

Speaking of God (hey, the title mentioned him), have any of you read The Shackby William Young? As I’m sure you all know, I’m not much of a Jesus freak. I don’t go to church and I don’t read the Bible. I don’t agree with what most churches teach and I dunno, I just have my own little religion.  I do believe there is a God and I do believe that he is quite like the God in the book The Shack. If you’ve not read it, you really should. Even if you aren’t churchy. Even if you ARE churchy. It’s a really interesting book. (No, I was not paid or asked to pimp this book. Do you really think anyone would choose my blog to do a review of a book about God?)

Ha. I opened up my laptop with no idea what the eff I was going to say and out comes GOD. Obviously, NaBloPoMo is detrimental to my mental health.

If you ask Cindy-Lu who her best friend is you’ll get one of two answers. It’s either Bubba (also known as Eeyore, her big brother) or it’s Nephew (my nephew, her cousin…and no, she doesn’t actually call him Nephew, but I need a blog name for him and there it is).

Lately Cindy-Lu and Nephew haven’t been getting along that great. She’s about six months older than him and has always enjoyed being older and able to boss him around. As Nephew gets older, he doesn’t take as much shit from her as he used to and he doesn’t seem to like playing hairdresser or dress up anymore either. Cindy-Lu is struggling with this a bit and lately she hasn’t been exactly loving towards him.

The other night at a family dinner with the in-laws (and not just the “regular” in-laws, but extended in-law family as well) my dear, sweet, darling daughter said a prayer before we began eating.

“Dear Jesus, Thank you for Cinderella. And thank you for my family except for Nephew. Amen.”

Aw. What a sweetheart.

Nephew, who is the most affectionate and tender-hearted little boy ever, piped up with a “Hey! That’s not very nice!”

Kids. As much as they annoy me, they sure do crack me up.

(Also, yes, I know I need to slowly step away from the photoshop, because I take it a bit far, but I loooove the look of these overly processed pictures and there is nothing you can say to make me change my mind. So there. I vow to go a little easier on the processing in the future. Maybe.)

Today I took my kids shopping. We were shopping for FIVE hours. Now, five hours of shopping sounds quite blissful until you factor in the “I took my kids with me” part and then you realize that five hours is more like torture.

It didn’t matter that my kids were perfect little angels, five hours is just too long for one woman to spend with two children in a shopping mall.

Five hours in a shopping mall with children is also a guarantee that you are going to have to enter at least one public restroom, because, to kids, public restrooms are like amusement parks, only better because of the added fun of germs and me shouting DON’T TOUCH THAT.

Cindy-Lu and I walked in the restroom by the food court and headed to the one stall not occupied. I held the door open for Cindy-Lu and asked her if she could go by herself or if she needed me to squeeze in the tiny little stall with her. Before she could answer me some lady piped up from the next stall that there was pee all over the toilet seat we were about to use and to just wait a minute and we could use her stall.

Um, okay. Sure. I appreciate the thought and I’m certainly glad that Cindy-Lu didn’t stick her hands or butt in someone else’s pee, but I’m a little weireded out by strangers talking to me while they are urinating.

We heeded her advice, however, and just a second later the lady came flying out of the stall, her pants still UNZIPPED and UNBUTTONED as she held the stall door open and gestured to Cindy-Lu to go ahead.

That’s the next logical step in a relationship right? First you pee while talking to each other and then you zip your pants in front of each other. Totally normal way to start a friendship.

NEXT, because of course there is more to this story, the lady proceeded to tell me about a job she used to have that involved cleaning a public toilet and one time some girl got blood all over the seat and didn’t wipe it off and she had to clean it up and OH MY GOD, WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING TO MEEEEEEE?

And no, she didn’t wash her hands before she left the bathroom.

I was laying in bed last night, in a deep sleep, minding my own business when Cleatus came barging into the bedroom ready to go to sleep himself.

Because I am a delicate flower of a princess, full of grace and dignity and politeness, I quietly stated that it was a tad warm in our bedroom.

Alright, so actually I started thrashing around the bed and moaning that it was so hot in there I was about to melt, fix it, god damn it.

Cleatus said something about the curtains blocking the flow of cool air through the open window. He pushed the curtain aside and asked if that was better.

Half asleep or not, I answered him with my usual charm, stating sarcastically that OH MY, YES! Much better! Why, it feels like the arctic in here!

“Well, let me open the window wider,” Cleatus said. He reached up and pushed and then started freaking the fuck out. “SHIT! OH, SHIT. The window came out of the wall!”

I, of course, started laughing because, seriously. Windows don’t just fall out of walls, he was obviously JOKING. Hahaha, that Cleatus. So hilarious.

“NO! It’s about to fall on your head, I’m holding it up!”

I jumped out of bed, flipped on the light and started screeching about how the next time we replaced windows we were hiring someone who knew what the fuck they were doing.

Cleatus looked at the window. He slowly released his grip on it. He reached up and jiggled it. “Oh. Huh. I guess it’s fine. That’s weird.”

Yeah, Cleatus. Weird. That’s exactly the word I would use.

(Day 2! I’m on a roll, yo!)

You know how one day you’re just happily going along with life and then you realize that shit! I haven’t posted on my blog in, what, eleven days? Twelve? Fuck, I don’t know. A long time. In fact, I bet there are people out there that have completely forgotten I even EXISTED.

It’s sad to realize that people have most likely forgotten you. Sad and terrible and a little hurty feeling.

I’ve decided (God help me) to participate (yes, really) in NaBloPoMo (where you post once a day, every day for an entire motherhumpin’ month) this month. And, yes, I do realize that I’m a day late to the game. I figure it’s for the best to start out already failing, that way you all don’t get your hopes up and actually expect me to do what I say I’m going to do. I already failed. I have nowhere to go but up!

I have no idea what the hell I’m going to blog about for thirty days. I’ve had a post about toilet paper and what your preferred brand says about your personality bouncing around my head for a month or more, so maybe (cross your fingers!) this will give me the motivation to write that post. Because God knows the internets just won’t rest until they hear what I think of their toilet paper choices.

I better end this post now before I strain myself. I have a lot more days to go and I better just take it slow. In fact, you can probably start expecting one word posts within in the next week or so. I don’t want to give anything away, but that one word? Will probably start with an “F.”