Oops-Huh To Duh Correctly

I have to print a correction to my last blog. I was reminded today that I was called a LESBIAN Dike, not a Liberal Dike. My bad, but I still took it as a compliment considering the Asshole was one of the laziest people I ever met and considering he took the energy to call me a 3-syllable word (les-bi-an), I was pretty impressed. I definitely left an impression.
I was also reminded that my mom has been called somethng similar. Hey, guess what?!! Science is right-that kind of thing is inherited through the genes! Thanks mom-that was a way better gift than the Avon lotion I got when I was 10!

From Huh To Duh?

I have been informed that my blog is pretty good (thumbs up to me!), except that I am to opinionated (um, okay?). Guess what? No shit. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to see that I swing to the liberal side, with a few conservative points just to keep me interesting. I have boring hobbies and 2 kids at home, leaving me little time to be cool. I spend my days doing laundry, grocery shopping, and dreaming of a warm island, lawn chair, and drink of my choice. And to prove I am borng, my drink of choice is Coke-with caffeine no less!!! So what do I say to those who think I am to opinionated? When I was called a liberal dike by some asshole, I took it as a compliment. I read a bumper sticker that, although I can't remember it verbatim, essentially said that boring women never make history. Long live bitches!!!

Huh?

We just had one of the most powerful windstroms I have ever seen,and I say this having lived with these things all my life. Winds gusted up to 55 mph in our area and trees are down all over the city. It is absolutely amazing. So the the two big branches in our tree that we thought a good gust of wind would blown down? Still up in the tree waiting for an unsuspecting dog or child to fall on. It is like they are glue'd in!!

What I Think Now

Five years ago, if I had seen a harassed looking woman with 2 young kids, I would have snickered privately and told myself that the other woman should really get it together. I mean honestly, just because you are a mom doesn't mean you have to turn into "Super Frumpy Lady". Flash forward to now and I want to smack myself. It isn't that I have turned into "Super Frumpy Lady", but I have turned into "Don't Give A Rats Ass Lady".
Yesterday, kids and I went out for pizza after dropping daddy off at work. Asa can run around the vidoe machines and I can watch tv and we are all calm. Noah farts-no biggie as we are alone. As I rub Noah's back, I discover he pooped-all the way up. Ohhhhhhhhh. There is no changing station at this place (Only God knows why not) so we head out to the car in the dark parking lot. After frantic prayers that no bad guys are out there, I discover that in his efforts to be helpful, daddy cleaned out the car including extra outfits. Oh yeah, and I need to go to the grocery store as we are out of milk, the poop went through to my jeans, and it is 8:00p. What kind of lottery in hell is this?
Girl Scout powers, activate!! I wrapped Noah in my sweatshirt, ignored my pants, and made the fastest trip to the grocery store I have ever made while corraling a 3-year-old. Nothing like motivation that you may run into someone you know to get you moving fast! Did I mention my hobby of doing laundry-last night was a banner night.

My Resolution

Thanks to the wonder of technology, my sister, from half way around the world, has been razzin' me about not using my bread maker. (It is all in good nature and justly deserved-I bugged her all through...well, our whole life.) This is the bread maker I got as a wedding gift in 2000, and it is still in the box, never used. I am using this blog to publicly defend myself against unfair charges that I am a Bread Maker-phobe.
Let me start by saying, I never registered for the damn thing in the first place. For whatever reason, husband-to-be thought we needed one. I am under no delusions about myself; kitchen gadgets are filed in between enema's and listening to strange baby's cry. I don't like to cook-apparently neither does my husband.
Second, it isn't that I WON'T or CAN'T use a bread maker. I am sure one day I will. But as anyone with kids in the house can tell you, we parental figures get about 10 minutes a day to ourselves. Hmmm, shower or bread maker? Learning to use a bread maker usually loses the coin toss.
Finally, nothing beats the thought of having my personal chef make me bread. Okay, I have no personal chef, and I have no money for a personal chef, but I hate to spoil the fantasy.
However, in the interest of good eating, I hereby make a resolution that by the end of 2009, I will at least look at the instructions for the bread maker. After all, it isn't often I get to use a brand new appliance, no matter when it was bought.