Big Decision Made... Let the Kegels Begin!

Wish it was that simple.

In all of the hustle and bustle of Hubby coming home, The Ginger's surgery, and just life in general, I realized I have forgotten to update you Inklingers on what Hubby and I finally decided for, well, our future together.

As a quick recap, for those that have just joined us, Hubby lives 2000 miles away (we were separated, then we decided to get our heads out of our asses and make this marriage and family work), we had a tentative plan of him moving here with us, then My Epiphany and How Badly it Sucks happened, and we decided to wait until he came to visit for The Ginger's surgery and kids' spring break to make our major life decision.

The kids and I are moving to Arizona. Yep, I'm quitting my tattoo artist day job (but not my ninja assassin night job- that's needed out west, too), and going back to being a stay at home mom. You know what that means?

All craziness and hell is going to break loose on Inklings. Oh yeah, it's going to be AWESOME! Hella fun stories about me and the PTA, and volunteering in my kids' classrooms, and having to walk 3 flights of stairs to do laundry in Hubby's apartment complex, and my first ever summer with the kids where I haven't worked, and how effing hot it is in Arizona, and how one adjusts to repairing their marriage after 3 years of being separated, and becoming a military wife again. I can't wait!

This is all going down in about 7 weeks... holy shit, right? I have to pack up an apartment, go through storage items, have it all shipped, ship my car, make sure the cats are up to date on their shots and get them fixed, and so much more, in just 7 weeks. All while working for the next 6 weeks and saving all of the money we can to move cross country.

Do you know how much it costs to move cross country? An ass load. Especially when you factor in the cost of lube. What? Lube? Yeah, that's from an old post... Moving Requires Lots of Lube.

Anyway, then, once the day actually comes, I have to fly, solo this time, with 2 kids. I normally take valium

Recycled Art and Rude Little Girls

Yesterday was an amazing, yet interesting, day. My dad and his girlfriend had planned a craft day for my kids and her grandkids, and while my father wanted to take the kids and give me a day off, I couldn't quite resist a craft day, so I went anyway.

Craft day was awesome; the little rude 8 year old that was there, wasn't. I'll get to her in a second.

The crafts were amazing. My dad had cut shapes out of thin wood, and he and his girlfriend had spray painted them various colors. Then, the kids glued different colored bottle caps to the boards. My dad's girlfriend had been saving bottle caps for around 8 months now, and let me tell you, there were a lot of them. But, it ended up being the perfect amount for 4 kids' projects, which amazed us all.

The Girl's Bottle Cap Art

My daughter made a funny faced heart and a googly eyed four leaf clover. Not exactly sure what the small black thing is at the bottom; I think it's a magnifying glass. Pretty awesome, nonetheless. (And, if you expand the picture, you can see that her heart project was sponsored by Goldschlager liquor. It makes me giggle.)

The Ginger's Bottle Cap Art

My son's projects included a spaceship (pretty amazed with that one) and a silly faced four leaf clover. I'm pretty proud at how great these turned out.

So, great way to reuse bottle caps, just keep in mind you have to save them for a while. It would be a great project for an art class at school, and have the kids bring in bottle caps from home.

Now, onto the 8 year old. Man, my blood is already starting to boil.

Sucking the Life From Honeysuckles

I've come to realize that my online persona can be a bit misleading sometimes. I'm not always full of sarcasm and humor.

Hahaha, okay, I am always full of sarcasm and humor. But, I'm full of good stuff, too.

I just took a walk with my kids. We have walking trails through the neighborhood, and tonight, we decided to take the blue trail (normally we take the red one). It led us first under a road, where yes, my kids screamed and made maniacal laughing noises to hear it echo through the tunnel. Then, the path led us to a playground, where we paused for a few minutes to tackle the playground equipment. My kids may have (though I won't 100% confirm it) kicked my ass on the monkey bars, but in my defense, I did arm exercises at the gym this morning, so, that's why I could only get to the 2nd monkey bar and my son almost all the way around. We left the playground and followed the trail up to the boat dock and the lake. We walked across some of the water, which totally freaked my daughter out, so she went screaming toward land saying, "I have to get back on solid ground", but The Ginger thought it was cool as hell.

On the way back, (and this was the coolest part of our journey) I taught my kids how to eat honeysuckles.

Tatted Mom's Mom Tips #1

For some reason, when people find out I have a parenting/mom blog, I start getting asked questions... like I'm an expert or something. Hell, I even got asked to join some website made up of a panel of experts, to be a member on their panel, and hand out advice to other parents in need. Whoa.

Yep, I'm an expert... an expert at being a smart ass, of making just about any situation humorous, and of having a crazy ass life. Those, I'm an expert at. Parenting? I don't think anyone is an expert at parenting, but if there was anyone who was close to it, it would be that lady on the TV show with like 19 kids. So far, none of her kids have ended up in jail or on drugs, so, her statistics are pretty good. Go ask her if it's better to use a pacifier or not use a pacifier with your newborn.

There are some things I've learned in my time, that, if I'm asked, I'll share.

I haven't been asked this time, but dammit, I'm sharing. Just random Mom Tips from me.

• Keep your car stocked. I don't care if you never go on road trips. Keep a bag in your car with some food that won't really go bad (granola bars or fruit snacks), a blanket, maybe a pillow, bandaids, wet wipes, napkins, paper and a pencil or colored pencils (crayons melt). If you want to be really prepared, throw in a shirt for you, and a change of clothes for the kids, but I've never gotten that far (and regretted it, seriously). Hell, I did use to carry a pair of flip flops and jeans in my car, too, but I think that was my subconscious run away bag. Anyway, all of this will come in handy, one day. I promise. And what's best is if you forget you have it, and then the kids are all, 'I'm Starrrrvinnnngggg,' like my kids do, and you remember you have it and shove granola bars at them. It's amazing how much respect they have for you at that one second.
• Don't feed your kids before after-school functions. Okay, I'm not talking about sports games or

'Brutally Honest Real Mom' or BS?

I've come to realize that I think I'm alone in this mom world.

This isn't a pity party post, don't worry. It's pretty eye opening.

I bought this book recently; I've been waiting for this book to come out since I first heard it had been written, because it was written by a real-life-humor mom blogger, like me. I've been a big fan of hers since I started blogging, and to find out she wrote a book... holy crap, awesomesauce! So, I bought it last week. (If you've been with me for a while, you know that I don't usually name people or books when I do posts like this, because I don't want to drive traffic to my site that was intended for someone else... plus, I prefer to be honest, anonymously.)

Excuse me while I scream about these
other moms...
courtesy of parentsconnect.com

Yes, the book is funny as hell. Yes, the book is very honest about motherhood, and how it isn't all rainbows and unicorns like most mom books tell you. Yes, the book is a great addition to my bookshelf, and something I may read again when I have those horrible mom days.

But, yes, the book opened my eyes in a way I never thought possible, and made me feel completely alone.

Am I the only mom anymore who gives a shit? Seriously.

This book was full of her knowledge of being a mom, and it's not that content that was eye opening for me. It was the blurbs here and there that were anonymous confessions of other moms. I know now why they are anonymous. There were confessions about how some moms absolutely resent their kids for the stretch marks and saggy boobs, and how all babies, even their own, are uglier than sin, and how many of them don't even feel like putting on clothes that aren't covered in kid vomit and piss to go to the grocery store, and how, 'because they are a mom now' this should be acceptable.

What the hell happened to taking pride in things as a mom? Has that completely gone out of the window nowadays in favor of this "brutally honest real mom" bullshit?

Be a Bitch, Not a... Yeah

Don't be that woman...

Disclaimer: This post has some not-so-typical-of-Tatted-Mom adult language in it, worse than what I normally post. It's a subject that boils my blood, and there was only one word I could think of to describe it. So, if you are easily offended by extremely strong language, you might not want to read this post.

I have a piece of advice for any woman going through a divorce...

There are times to be a bitch, and then there are times to cool the hell off. Don't always be a bitch, especially if you aren't one to begin with.

Now, hold on one second before you misunderstand me. I'm a huge advocate for being a bitch; I devoted an entire post to how being a bitch can be empowering. But, there are times in life where you need to smile, shake your head yes, and tie the bitch up and put her in the closet. Seriously.

We have to rewind a few weeks to what I witnessed that was the motivation for this post.

It was Easter Sunday. Hubby, the kids and I had headed over to my dad's house for an Easter egg hunt. My dad lives with his girlfriend, and his girlfriend's son was there too, waiting on his 2 daughters to arrive. He and his daughters' mother are going through a divorce at the moment, and apparently there had already been an altercation about Easter Sunday prior to the actual day.

Her family's function was from 12pm-5pm that day. We planned our Easter egg hunt for 11am to accommodate her schedule. We won't even go into how 1 hour for the kids to spend with their dad on Easter is not even close to equal to the 5 hours the children would be spending with their mother's side of the family (Bitch Move #1), but anyway... Because Hubby and I knew the festivities would be done by 12, we scheduled to head to his brother's house for another egg hunt and dinner, which we would have to leave by 12:30 to attend. We told my dad about this before we got there, and he informed everyone of our plans.

We showed up around 10:45, so we could start the egg hunt right at 11. 11 comes and goes; no soon-to-be ex-wife and kids. My dad's girlfriend texts her; they are "just around the corner". 11:15, 11:30, 11:45, nothing; damn, that's a long corner. Somewhere around that time is when Dad and his girlfriend tell us that this is completely typical of the soon-to-be ex. She never drops the kids off when she's supposed to, and there's a huge custody battle going on right now between them, with her never sticking to the agreement.

At this point, my blood is boiling. We had to leave at 12:30, and the way it was going, the egg hunt was

Holy Crap, Me? Mommy of the Moment?

Two posts in one day? What? Ahh, it's Friday, and I'm giving y'all a double dose of Tatted Mom crazy today.

Just wanted to do a quick post to say that my interview over at MommyPage posted today! I think it's awesome! They emailed me about being a part of their Page Turner program, and sent me some questions to answer to be a Mommy of the Moment. Pretty excited, so I wanted to share with you all! The MommyPage site is amazing, with great articles and deal sites. Seriously, check it out!

Huge thanks to MommyPage for choosing me as a Mommy of the Moment!

Sheesh, between this amazing interview and Hot Mess Mom whoring me out over at her facebook site, I've been getting some mad love this week. Thanks to her, too, and welcome to all of the newbies that found me!




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I'm Going On Strike... Help, Please!

courtesy of parentingsquad.com

So, I know today is supposed to be a Fan Favorites post, pulled out of archives, but I need some help, and quickly.

I want to go on strike. Seriously.

This morning, I woke up, headed to the kitchen to make my coffee, and the sink is full of dishes, and the counters covered in crap (not literally... we'll get to literal crap in a second). The dishwasher is full of clean dishes, which I ran yesterday morning as soon as I got up, so that means the dishwasher had not been unloaded, loaded and ran in 24 hours (there's 4 of us in this apartment and a house guest right now for the week... daily dish washing is a necessity).

As I'm brewing my coffee, I look around the apartment... it looks like ass. Yes, this is the same condition it was in when I got home from work last night, but when it's after 9 at night and you've worked all day, you seem to have these blinders on... you see the fridge for something to eat, you see the couch for somewhere to sit, and you see the TV to entertain you until it's time for sleep.

Then, I hear the cat in the dining room, scratching at something. I get The Girl to check it out... the cat is crapping in the dining room (there's your literal crappy part of the story). Why? Because the litter box is full; it hasn't been scooped out since I changed it 3 days ago, and we have 3 cats. Disgusting!

So, that's when it hit me. I have off tonight, and off tomorrow, screw this, I'm going on strike.

Then I thought, shit, I don't know what that entails. Do I not do anything all weekend and just see if the rest

Group Projects Suck

Courtesy of memebase.com

One of the stupidest things I've ever heard of is out-of-school group projects... for 4th graders. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my daughter's teacher. She thinks the world of my daughter, is always pushing her in an amazing way to be the best she can be, and her communication with her students' parents is awesome.

But, they're 10 years old. Group projects that require meeting outside of school because you aren't letting them work on them in school... slightly ridiculous at this age. I don't remember doing group projects until at least middle school when I was growing up.

Alas, my daughter was assigned a group project... over spring break, nonetheless. The good thing was that one of her partners lives in the upstairs apartment. The 3rd member of their group? Not in this apartment complex.

So, this is what went down, and where the core bitching of my post comes from today. This spring break, Hubby came to visit. Fine, we can work The Girl's project into a few hours over the only week her daddy was going to be home. So, my daughter started calling this 3rd little girl on the first day of spring break. No answer, no voicemail. This continued through the majority of the week; my daughter called, no answer, no voicemail. My daughter, however, worked on the project with the little boy upstairs anyway, despite the little girl not answering the phone.

The 2nd member of the group, the little boy who lives upstairs, came and knocked on our door. He said that the 3rd little girl's mother called their teacher saying no one had bothered to call her daughter about the project and she was pissed. Their teacher called the mother upstairs and relayed the message.

WTF? My daughter had been calling your daughter all week (yes, the number was correct), not to mention you have both our phone number and the little boy's number. Was it necessary to go tattling to the teacher? Ohhh... you're one of those moms. I see. If the kids fail this project, you can say your daughter doesn't deserve the bad grade because no one contacted her, huh? Bitch.

Anyway, so, #3 (shortened version of the little girl) and #2 (little boy that lives upstairs)

Grey's Anatomy Isn't... What? Noooo....

With my son's surgery last week, I found something out, something earth shattering, but before I share it with the world, I'm going to need the majority of the female population to be sitting down for it. Are y'all ready?

Grey's Anatomy isn't real. I know, the truth hurts.

How did I come to this shocking revelation? My son's surgery was performed at a teaching hospital, one with residents and interns and so forth (terms I learned on Grey's Anatomy, just like 83% of the non-medical American population), so, when I found this out, I got really excited.

Thoughts began to swirl in my head of McDreamy performing my son's surgery, and seeing a beautiful Meredith walk around the corner, say a few words to a nurse and continue walking down the hall. Oh man, how awesome would it be to be caught in an elevator between McSteamy and Lexi and feeling the sexual tension between them? Despite the fact that my son was having surgery done, this was going to be awesome!

So, we get upstairs to the pre-surgery wing, get him checked in, and when we get called to the back to a room, I feel my pulse start to race. This is it, this is where I meet McSteamy and my world is complete. We get ushered to the back, out of the waiting room, and I start looking around... normal looking person in scrubs, another normal looking person in scrubs... a... um... homely looking person in scrubs... where are the effing hotties at? Seriously?

And everyone seemed so serious. If I can't have Grey's Anatomy with the hotties, I'll settle for Scrubs.

1 Fun Week = 3 Months of Being Grounded

Hubby has gone and done it again, only this time... a hell of a lot worse.

Last time he visited, I gained 10 pounds in 2 weeks, amongst other things that fall under what I called, "The Aftermath of Hurricane Hubby".

This time? I gained 7 pounds in 8 days. Can someone tell me how that's even f*cking possible??? Seriously.

I'm going to confess something real quick before I continue on with my post. I watch those shows... you know, the weight loss ones. Not the "normal" weight loss ones, but like the 600 lb man weight loss ones. My favorite is "Heavy" because the people get sent to a weight rehab center and work their asses off... literally. But one of the trainers in an episode of "Heavy" was barking at the people who signed up for the show, trying to get them motivated and said, 'It wasn't easy getting the weight on, so it's not going to be easy getting the weight off.'

Um, I beg to differ, there, personal trainer, sir. I just gained 7 pounds in 8 days, and that was easy as pie... and oreo dirt cake... and Golden Corral buffet... and sausage, egg and cheese biscuits for breakfast... yeah, pretty damn easy.

Even with the increased eating I did, I still don't understand how I gained that much weight in that amount of time. I'm actually a petite person, so for me to consume 3500 calories over what I burn in a day, in order to gain almost a pound a day, should be statistically impossible.

And yet, I accomplished it. What's even more sad, is one day, we spent the entire day touring various spots downtown, and I walked, and hiked up hills, for a total of 6 hours that day, burning over 2500 calories... and I still gained weight.

So, currently, I'm at the highest weight I've been at since I had my son 7 years ago and came down from my baby weight (depressing). I'm still not saying I'm 'fat', but what I am saying is that I'm not comfortable at the weight I'm currently at, and I only have 1 pair of pants that fits me. Either I need to lose the weight to fit back into my clothes, or I need to buy an entire new wardrobe... I'm going with option A, as much as it sucks.

What's my plan of attack? I'm grounding myself. Seriously. I'm removing the 'fun' of last week (oreo dirt cake... I keep mentioning that, but it was good. I added blackberries to the center of each cup as an attempt to make it healthier, despite the fact it had oreos and cool whip in it, but it was amazing... sorry for the tangent, the heavy girl inside me just got excited again... buttery popcorn, fast food breakfasts, Easter candy, sodas, etc) and becoming a responsible adult with healthy eating habits... suck ass grounding, if you ask me.

I'm also going to incorporate fresh fruit juice smoothies into my diet...

Great Read on Gender Issues

I'm still on my mini vacay... Hubby's last full day here. Trying not to be bummed, but it's hard. We have an easy, relaxing day ahead of us, lots of cuddling on the couch.

I wanted to pass a link onto you all today, though. About a year ago, I had a guest poster here on Inklings that went on to start his own blog. Amazing blog (when he keeps up with it... Eh em... Jon... I can bust his bubble, we're related...). He wrote a very eye opening post recently on Gender Issues, which, I'll admit here that I'm jealous of. He and I must have read the same article because I remember going, 'Hell, I need to blog about that', but alas, he beat me to it. So, seeing as how I couldn't have said any of it any better (maybe a few more curse words thrown in), then head over there and read it! And, if you decide to subscribe to him (you won't be disappointed, I promise), then maybe he'll write pretty much everyday (A girl can hope, huh?).

Of Tomboys and Mama's Boys: Gender Issues

Enjoy! And, if you leave him a comment, tell him the crazy tatted lady at Inklings sent ya!!!

Queen for a Day

I've been posting updates on the Inklings facebook page and some on Twitter, but as I lay in this king sized amazing bed of cloudlike awesome, I must write a short blog post.

Hubby and I got out for date night. Honestly, in 13 years of being married, this is by far the most amazing date night ever. Complimentary champagne and strawberries, a jacuzzi, room service, a make-your-own-omelet breakfast bar, a newspaper at our door first thing this morning, and when we were coming back from breakfast, the manager saw us in the elevator, and greeted us, by name. Yep, by name. I'm in heaven, seriously.

This, all on top of heading to The Melting Pot last night. Hubby and I had never been, and it was pretty amazing. Dessert alone was worth the entire bill, which, the manager there comped our cheese fondue. Supposedly we were randomly selected to have our cheese fondue taken off the check in celebration of cheese fondue month. At first I was suspicious, like, they found out the cheese they used had ecoli in it, so they took it off the bill so we couldn't sue them or something, but seeing as it's been 12 hours with no adverse reactions, I'm thinking we just were pretty damn fortunate.

So, check out is in like 2 hours and I don't want to leave. Seriously. Our room has a name, for crying out loud. It's called The Jefferson Suite. Hubby and I have never stayed in a room that had a name... Well, we've named rooms before: The Roach Room, Lumpy Bed Room... But never An Indoor Heaven.

And, of course, true Hubby style, as soon as we get in here he says,

"So, we need to Hangover this room before we leave. Where do we get a tiger?"

Ahh, that's my man. Now y'all see why I married him. Not only does he treat me like a queen, but he makes me giggle, too. The combination of the two makes me a very lucky woman.

The Ginger & His Surgery

I want to tell a quick story today, Inklingers. Sit back and enjoy.

Once upon a time, there was a Ginger boy. He had a cyst grow inside of his cheek. His mother worried and worried that something was terribly wrong, but The Ginger never fretted.

The day came for him to have his surgery, and lo and behold, he spiked a 103 degree fever of out nowhere and, though they had gotten up at 4 am to get to the hospital, surgery was rescheduled.

The Mommy rescheduled his surgery for his spring break from school, so he could have all of the healing time he could need. She called his Daddy, who was able to take leave from work and fly in to be with The Ginger during this trying time.

The second day of his surgery came, and the Mommy, the Daddy, The Ginger and his sister, The Girl, all got up at 4am to drive to the hospital. The initial test were done, and The Ginger was cleared for surgery. He remained strong and fearless, never showing how scared he was deep down.

They wheeled him back for surgery, and the Mommy broke down. Tears streamed down her face, so the Daddy played his role of comforting the Mommy.

'Let's go get coffee and fatty, comforting breakfast food while we wait,' the Daddy said. The most perfect words the Mommy had ever heard.

Surgery was over a very short time later, and The Ginger had pulled through with flying colors. They said he asked for his Mommy as soon as they woke him up from being put under, which brought tears to the Mommy's eyes.

He got the all clear to go home, and they wheeled him out to the car, where the Mommy wanted to sit in the back with him and let him lay down while she took care of him. The Ginger wanted to just watch the scenery as they passed.

The family gets home, and The Ginger chooses to watch a movie and eat some icee while the Mommy and the Daddy nap beside him on the bed.

6 hours after his surgery first began, this is The Ginger, playing video games and acting like nothing happened.

Moral of today's story:

Kids are resilient and mommies never stop worrying, even if there isn't reason to.

Fan Favorites: It's a Southern Thing

Another favorite pulled from archives today, from December of 2010. Keep in mind, this one was written while I briefly lived in Arizona. I'm currently back in the south, and love it!! ~Tatted Mom



I'm proud to say I'm from the south. Born and raised in Virginia (it's below the Mason-Dixon line, so we qualify as southern, thank you), I've lived in the backwoods of my wonderful home state, in North Carolina and in South Carolina. I lived in England for 3 years in between North Carolina and South Carolina, and currently live in Arizona. Talk about culture shock for me, moreso with Arizona than even England. This western thing takes some getting used to, and yes, I understand I'm still in the southwest, but there are big difference between the south and the southwest. If you've never lived in the south, it's definitely something worth trying- at least visit. Most people never forget their trips to the south.

Common stereotypes of the south include everyone being country bumpkins and uneducated, all food is smothered in gravy, racism is everywhere, the women are sickly sweet to your face and a bitch behind your back, everyone carries guns, everyone goes hunting, religious fanaticism, and they're all Republicans. Of those statements, I can say that those stereotypes are false, true, semi-true, definitely true, semi-true, semi-true, semi-true, semi-true and false. Ha! You thought I was going to say they were all false, huh? No, I'm being honest here. The only two of those that are definitely false are the uneducated one and the Republican one, though I'm still arguing with myself on the Republican one.

Continue Reading Here...





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Sorry About Your Fetish, But I'm Glad You Found My Blog... Part 2

A little over a month ago, I posted the weird search terms people had used that led them to Inklings, in Sorry About Your Fetish, But I'm Glad You Found My Blog.

My Inklingers, it's that time again. Over a month has gone by, and the results are amazing. So, in random order, here are my favorites, word for word, and my replies to whoever was searching for them.

"Pee pee dance long line"- Yes, it was in quotation marks and everything. I'm racking my brain here trying to figure out which one of my posts is about doing the pee pee dance. Can't come up with anything. But, since this was searched in quotation marks, was the person looking for an actual song? Specific lyrics? Hmm. Mine goes something like, 'Holy shit, please move, Gotta pee, Gotta pee, Seriously are you snorting coke in there? Gotta pee, gotta pee.' Hope that helps for the next person searching for pee pee dance songs.

Brush my teeth- Yes. You should. Twice a day. Seriously? I'm hoping it was a kid that searched this. Do you need directions? Put toothpaste on toothbrush. Insert in mouth, onto teeth. Move back and forth like you are having a seizure. There, mission accomplished.

Apartment thin walls diarrhea- First, I applaud this person on spelling diarrhea correctly. Second,

The Hunt for My Vice

For those that follow Inklings' facebook page, you know that almost a month ago, I quit smoking, which left me with virtually no vices.

Yay for me, getting my health in check and all, and setting a good example for my kids, but honestly, I'm upset about not having a vice anymore.

Vices make you feel naughty, feel alive, feel like you have a secret that only you and a few close to you know about, feel like an adult. And I'm talking 'acceptable' vices, not the type that can get you put in jail or put on a list for the rest of your life.

So, I kid you not, I set out to find my vice.

I started by looking up the actual, legit definition of the word (I wanted to make sure I had it correct, so my search would be successful, and, well, I'm a nerd):

vice: (n) An immoral, wicked or evil habit or practice.

Okay, great starting point. Let's consider the obvious...

I didn't smoke anymore, so that was off my list. Drinking for me consisted of 1 glass of wine every month maybe, so I'm pretty sure that couldn't count as a vice. I don't pop pills, don't smoke, snort or inject any other type of drug, so those are out. I've watched porn in my life, but considering I have a Hubby 2000 miles away and share a room with my sister, that's not really an option. Hell, sex isn't even a vice on my list in my current situation.

I cuss. Does that count? I cuss a lot, actually. Moreso than the average woman, because, well, I work in a male dominated industry. I've had to hold my own over the years, and with that comes the ability to grow a thick skin and speak their language.

I started to get a little happier. Cussing. Cussing is my vice.


Damn, that's a lame vice. Seriously.

So, my brain shifted to things that are 'normal', but because of the manner in which they are performed, could make them a vice. (Did I mention before that I'm a nerd... and a hell of a debater... I can argue just about anything, quite logically if I do say so myself.)

Damn, I OB'ed Again...

Where did that box of sandwich bags come from? Damn it, I must have done it again...

Hi. My name is Tatted Mom, and I'm an Over Buyer.

It happens just about every time I go grocery shopping, and I know I can't be the only one who does it. I convince myself that we are out of something at the house and buy it, just to come home and find a full supply of it in the cabinet/fridge/closet/drawer.

Everyone does it, right? We all have that item or items that we over buy.

My frequent ones are butter and cheese. Every single time I go grocery shopping, I buy a pack of 4 sticks of butter. We've had upwards of 3 full packs of butter in the fridge at one time, because I was sure, while I was grocery shopping, that we were out of it. Bags of shredded cheese are the same way.

The other morning I grabbed the last 2 sandwich bags from the box in the drawer when making the kids' lunches. I put 'sandwich bags' on my shopping list, and bought a box of 100 at the grocery store that day. The next morning, I opened the drawer and found a box of 50 bags, opened, sitting right there. Not exactly sure when I bought them, but there they were. The sandwich bags thing was new, but the scenario was very deja vu for me.

I've also over bought jars of mayonnaise, mustard, peanut butter and jelly. It's the same scenario each time.

Pinocchio Has Nothing on Me

I lie to my kids... a lot. In fact, I prefer to lie to them than to tell them the truth sometimes. It's just a way of life here, so I didn't think much about it, until my sister's boyfriend brought it to her attention that we do lie to them a lot, and maybe, just maybe, it's cruel.

I say cruel schmuel... but I may be biased.

Here's the story, so y'all can help me out with this one...

Hubby is coming home Saturday. I'm super stoked, and Hubby and I talked about whether or not to tell the kids. The last time he came home, we chose not to tell them, but instead planned an elaborate surprise (video can be seen here) that the kids knew nothing about. It went just as we planned, and was quite amazing, considering the kids hadn't seen their father in 10 months.

This time around, we chose to tell them, so that they can ride to the airport with me, and have the excitement build the closer it gets to him being here.

That's how the lying thing was brought up. My sister's boyfriend asked her if the kids knew about their dad coming home this time, to which she told him yes, we had decided to tell them. He replied, 'Sometimes I feel sorry for the kids; you all are always lying to them about stuff, and yeah, it has a good outcome and all, but I just feel bad.'

Wow. Never thought of it like that, seriously.

I'm the type of mom that doesn't tell my kids what's coming up. Why? In case it doesn't happen. I don't want

6 Days...

So, I'll start out by saying I'm trying out my Blogger app for the first time... We'll see how addictive this thing is. If so, y'all might be getting blog posts while I stand in line at the grocery store... We'll see.

Anywho, I'm so excited... Hubby comes to visit in 6 DAYS!!! I can't wait! He's only staying a week, but when you haven't seen each other in 3 months, any time together is greatly appreciated.

We scheduled The Ginger's surgery for the week he's home, too, so he doesn't have to miss out on that part of his son's life- it's a pretty big thing.

So, 6 days from now, my kids will have their dad for a week, here for their spring break and The Ginger's surgery, I'll have my husband to hug and kiss, cuddle with on the couch, get foot rubs from, and.... Get laid. Seriously, it's been forever. Maybe I won't be so much of a bitch once next week is here.

Crap, now I need to shave my legs... My razor is going to hate me. Oh well, it's for a good cause.

So, I'll leave y'all with one of Hubby's favorite pics of us... Haven't figured this one out. It's out of focus, spur of the moment, awkward... Hey, like us... Ohhhh, I get it now...