Today, 6 years ago, I was due with my youngest son. But, the due date came and went. I waddled around with his head basically hanging out of my vagina until December 23rd.

Today, 6 years later, I’m bloated, crabby and PMS’y.

This probably has to do with the fact that the kids AND my husband are ALL home until January 4th. That is OVER two weeks. Of them being home. Whining, complaining, making messes and not cleaning them, demanding, crying.

Oh yes, prolonged family time. Oh, the joy and excitement.

You want to know what amazes me? Sure ya do! Well, all week long, the “other” parents hardly see their kids. Maybe one dinner during the week. Maybe not even that much. Saturday, “their day” comes. The kids wake up early due to the excitement of seeing their “other” parent.

And they have to chase them down.

The kids have to call their parents, usually waking them from a sound sleep. At 11am on a Saturday. Just to find out if they are even seeing them and what time they should expect their arrival.

Seriously?!

And sometimes, after these kids have been looking forward all week to seeing their beloved parent, that they barely see during the week, on Saturday…that parent didn’t fit their child into their very busy, fully loaded plate type weekend. And they don’t show up.

It has been known to happen.

These kids, from both my first marriage and my husbands, are burdened with the fact that they don’t necessarily always come first in the lives of their non-custodial parent.

And that sucks for these kids.

It also sucks for us because we have to deal with the hurt feelings and try to make them as better as we can while trying to not say some choice words about the neglectful and selfish parent.

Not to mention that it affects our life. It does! Because, the benefit of divorce, if you can even consider this to be a benefit, is to not have the ALL the kids ALL weekend long.

To have our time.

And it doesn’t EVER work like that. But THAT isn’t always a bad thing.

Anyways, not to dwell on the fact of our life here. On to bigger and more important things.

Zhu Zhu pets!

While so many people are waiting in line at Wal-Mart and Toys R Us at 6 a.m in hopes of getting these REALLY STUPID looking toys…

I scored 6 of them at CVS. I did!! AND. I got a little Zhu Zhu Pet Carrier and Zhu Zhu Pet blanket. My two youngest ones are going to be so excited!!

So lean in close.

Call your local surrounding CVS stores. They keep getting small shipments in. Instead of waiting in line at the buttcrack of dawn for these ridiculous little critters that are ugly and make stupid noises, drive right on past those pathetic people standing in the cold, shivering. Wave. And head to the CVS.

Because THAT is how I spent my GNO last night. Oh yes. We sure did. We went for sushi. We got a chai latte at Target. And then, we hit all the local CVS drugstores.

I hang with some seriously wild women.

I kept having flashbacks of the Beanie Baby days when I spent 1997 hitting all the stores who were expecting those silly little stuffed animals.

Living on the edge.

BUT.

My kids are my full plate, busy type schedule.

Have a good Saturday! Off to buy goody bags and stuff for my son’s birthday party tomorrow!!
XOXO

Say you had a blog.

And say this said blog was a Mommy-ish type blog.

And on this Mommy-ish type blog, you posted Mommy-ish type things.

But say…

there was a point in your life…

an event…

a…

situation of sorts…

that was troubling you.

For arguments sake…Let’s say you thought you were pregnant.

Like…you were REALLY convinced, beyond all conviction…that you were pregnant.

Like…refused to get x-rays for a, let’s say…back problem…on the off chance you were, GOD FORBID…with zygote.

Like…went and bought a 3 pack pregnancy test.  And took all 3 in one day.

Like…THAT convinced.

But…say you had made a decision that if, on the off chance, you were pregnant…

That there was no possible way…say your age or say…financially or…potential health risk…

That you would want to…or even could…carry out this pregnancy…

Should those two red lines show up.

Would you blog about it?

Could you blog about it?

If you found out.  That you…were pregnant.  At 40.  And had 5 kids already.  And decided that, if you were pregnant that it would be terminated…hypothetically…

Should you blog about?

With fear of judgment from your blogging peers.

With fear of family and friends finding out.

With fear of all the hate mail and plummeting numbers.

After all…

I’ve been on blogs that discuss, in heartbreaking detail, about trying to conceive.

I’ve been on blogs that discuss, in graphic detail, sex.

I’ve been on blogs that have touched almost every aspect of life, death and everything in-between.

But NEVER, have I EVER read about…the off chance and the outcome.

Luckily…the lines weren’t there.

And luckily I don’t have to worry about the post that I was worrying about having to write.

And I don’t have to be that blog that would have to touch on THAT delicate matter.

And I don’t have decide which path to take.

But it got me thinking.

How much is too much.

How much do we REALLY spill on our blogs.

How open should the doors and windows to our lives be…here…for the world to read.

Because I WOULD have blogged about this…

regardless of the outcome.

Regardless of how many lines showed up…

Each and every time I took one of those tests…

and waited with my breath held for the entire minute it takes for the result to appear.

I would have taken the chance of losing numbers…

and perhaps respect…

from family and friends…both IRL and bloggy.

Because here, on my blog…

there is no such thing as TMI.

So I ask you now,

how much TMI is too much for you?

You know I’m on this diet, right?

I want to get back to my thin form.  So I can wear my hawt couture clothing at Blogher.  Actually…so I don’t have to buy new, hawt clothes for Blogher so I can spend money in Chicago but…anyhoo…

This diet I’m on.  It rawks.  Big.

I’ve never NOT lost my weight from it.  I ALWAYS get to my goal weight.

This will be the 3rd time I’ve been on it.

Why, you ask, if you get to your goal weight…are you on this diet AGAIN?

OK…fairnuff…

First time…lost weight and stupid ass me…got pregnant.  But…despite the fact that aliens abducted her, she’s pretty cute and it was worth the 45 pound gain.

Second time…I lost 40 pounds. Went down to a beautiful, perfect, can wear any clothes I want (not shorts or mini skirts…too much cellulite) without trying them on…size 6.
Then…I quit smoking.

So…I’m doing this diet for the 3rd time.
Three…
is a charm, right?
Or is that just for marriages?

Anyway…
The last few days have been rough.
A week…exactly.
Has been big donkey balls suckage.
Sick kids.
Cling-on.
Wants to crawl back where he came from, don’t leave the room Mommy or I may diiiiiiieeeeee!!
Yeah…
Diet. Sabotage.

Then…enter hubby.
So sweet.
He decided that he was bored.
And he decided our daughters were bored.
So…they baked Oatmeal Raisin cookies.
Shithead.
Because…with sick kids. That was already a bad, bad diet ruination.
But Oatmeal Raisin cookies…
That’s kicking me when I’m down.
SERIOUSLY.
That…is worse than NOT getting me a Valentines card.
That…is worse than forgetting to call me on my 35th birthday…and you’re mom had to call you and yell at you (back when she tolerated me)
That…
is undermining my efforts to skinnydom.

But HA!
I do have a savior.
In the name of a black and brown, 100 pound, her own vagina licking…
DOG!!
Luna.
How do I love thee.
Let me count the Oatmeal Raisin cookie crumbs…
all over the floor.
And the guilty gait with tail tucked…into your happy place corner.

Note to hubby…
Next time you make Oatmeal Raisin cookies…put them away.
Because…the dog. She’s tall. She can reach the kitchen counter.
Oh and…
you may want to take her on an extra LOOOOOONG walk later.
Oatmeal is very high in dietary fiber.

OK…
Just enter my giveaways…here for make up
and
here for an obnoxious and scary looking sex toy that comes with yummy sounding lubes.
K
THNXS
Off to eat some salad or something boring now.
XOXO