Jen and Amy both passed along a link to a wondeful site if you’re interested in helping the victims of hurricane Katrina.
I wanted to pass it along to all of you.
Been There Clearinghouse.
Also? I’m going to be sorting through pictures and hopefully finding one good enough to put up for auction. If you’d like to participate, join the group and get to posting a picture.
Can I just tell you how much I LOVE that people are coming together to do something. Just makes me feel a little better.
Ya know?
Sorrow
(Photo courtesy of Fox News)
How can I complain about anything right now? I feel so grateful for EVERYTHING I have right now.
For the water bottle I’m sipping out of. For the diapers neatly stacked in my daughters bedroom. For the electricity. For the breeze blowing through my bedroom window. For the gas in the tank of my van. For the clean clothes piled on my bed. For the toothpaste sitting on top of my bathroom counter. For the toilet paper. For the toilet. For sound of laughter coming from down the hall as my son watches cartoons. For the shoes on my feet. For the food in my cabinets. For the phone I can call friends with. For the blankets I can gently place on my children at night when I tuck them in. For this old, ugly house that I spend much time hating, but that today I love dearly.
Everything.
My heart is broken. I feel sick and insignificant. As I watch the videos of people desperate for help, I sob because all I can do is watch. It’s horrible. HORRIBLE.
Tag THIS
Sarah went and called me out to do a meme. So as not to be called a “stuck up blogger”, I will do it. And also? Because she once used a gift certificate she had to buy me a E.E Cummings poetry book (that I STILL love to this day). Do NOT click the extended entry if you hate The Meme’s.
7 things I plan to do before I die:
1. Lose The Fat
2. Put MY PICTURESin photo albums. (that’s not even all of them, people)
3. GET MY FILM DEVELOPED! (those disposable cameras are from the early 90’s.)
4. Visit New York City again.
5. Watch my children get married.
6. Hold my grandbabies.
7. Learn to Salsa dance.
7 things I can do:
1. The Worm, bitches!
2. Push babies out of my vagina
3. Make tittymilk!
4. Clip coupons whilst taking a dump.
5. Make people laugh.
6. Comfort my children.
7. play the guitar, but only if it’s songs about Jesus.
7 things I can not do:
1.Whistle! ‘Er since I got my new teeth, seriously, I can’t.
2. Stop myself when I get too excited.
3. Save money.
4. Keep plants alive
5. Speak Spanish
6. Stop talking
7. Poop in public restrooms.
7 things that attract me to other people:
1. A sense of humor!
2. Sensitivity
3. Compassion
4. A smile
5. Wit
6. Did I say sense of humor? Because, sense of humor.
7. Money. (if you have a sense of humor, you’d know that was a joke)
7 things that I say most often:
1. Boobies
2. Vagina
3. Fart
4. Oh hell no
5. Step off!
6. SNAPS!
7. Tomorrow
7 Celebrity Crushes
1. Kevin James
2. Todd Glass
3. Judge Mathis
4. Leah Remini (only because I want to be her friend!)
5. Steve Edwards
6. Gary Busey. (DO NOT JUDGE ME)
7. Jimmy Smits
The last one was supposed to be “7 people you’d like to do this” but I don’t want to call people out LIKE SARAH CALLED ME OUT. ( I kid, Sarah, I aint mad ‘atcha.)
The reason I spend TWO HOURS clipping coupons and looking through ads every Sunday morning…
Now do you understand why Clip at any chance I get? DO YOU?
I got a buttload of groceries AND contraptions that make my house smell good all for only $103.
I don’t even care if you’re laughing at me because… “Oh, how pathetic, she’s excited because she saved ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY DOLLARS at the market! LOSER!”
Know WHY I don’t care?
Because, One hundred and sixty dollars, that’s why.
(Ok, so I never thought the high point of my life would be my “coupon savings” but, again? One hundred and sixty dollars, so SHUT IT.)
But if you call this a “Mommy Blog” I’ll Whip ’em out and squirt you.
A couple days ago, I wrote about how captivated I am with my daughter. From the first moment I saw her, I thought she was absolutely precious. However, now that her little personality is shining through so brightly (cheese) I find her to be EVEN MORE beautiful. And you know what that means, right? That means I can not stop taking pictures of her.
As if the constant picture taking wasn’t annoying enough, I can’t stop kissing her and biting her cheeks. I’m afraid I’ll accidently hurt her. The biting has to stop. I can stop the biting, but I can NOT stop with the pictures.
Because?
Look. Her eyes. Her LIPS. Her Cheeks. DO YOU SEE WHY I CAN NOT STOP BITING HER?
I realize that I’m being incredibly annoying, I do, but, that’s the great thing about this being MY blog that I PAY FOR. I can write about her and post pictures of her all day long if I wanted to! And maybe I WILL! Gosh!
And now, to balance out all of The Gabby. I give you, The ‘Hawks…
What makes The Mullet even GREATER is that there are only two teeth in her mouth.
What is that ‘do my daughter is sporting? Could it be a mullet?
It’s totally a mullet. And in combination with the Bang Cut I just gave her? It’s a classic, man.
Not as classic as The Cut I gave Tony the night before I gave birth to our first child. Oh man. If you saw the video? You’d hate me for what I did to his head.
I have a history of giving bad cuts. (Remember Snoops Hair massacre?) Don’t even get me started on the “self cuts” I’ve performed. One time? Tony came home from work to find me in the bathroom, crying hysterically, clippers in my hand, trying to SHAVE MY NECK because I had accidently cut my hair THAT short. He was all “What the hell did you do, woman?” And I screamed “I don’t know, but don’t yell at me, don’t you think having a BOY HAIRCUT is punishment enough? Now, will you please help me SHAVE THE BACK OF MY NECK?”
Poor Gabby. She’s destined for a life of Jacked Up Bangs and Neck Shaving, but at least she’ll be rid of The Mullet.
Love cheese
Sigh. My girl. She is so incredibly beautiful. So genuinely happy. So warm and affectionate. So absolutely perfect.
I feel overwhelmed by her presence.
I hold in my arms this perfectly amazing little girl. She reaches up, puts my face in her hands, looks into my eyes and smiles. Then, she’ll kiss me sweetly and say, in her tender little voice, “I yaya (I love you)”. At that moment, I feel humbled, I feel grateful, I feel so incredibly lucky to be her mother and I have to ask myself “Why was God so kind to me?”
cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese cheese.
There are moments where I just want to BITE HER ALL OVER because she’s just that cute and I love her that much. Instead, I’ll take her little hand in mine, kiss it and say “One day I hope you can understand the depths of my love for you little girl.”
And then I bite her just a little bit because if I don’t? I’ll go crazy.
I made up a little song for her and I sing it to her everytime I hold her. As I begin to sing it, her big, brown eyes light up and she’ll start clapping. She’ll giggle a little, then, she’ll begin hum along while smiling at me through the entire song. As I watch how happy that silly little song makes her, I feel so proud. You people would laugh if you heard the song, it’s, well, silly, but SHE LOVES IT. My daughter thinks it’s great and that? I can’t even explain how great it feels.
The name of this blog says it all Unexpected Joy. That’s what she is, my Unexpected Joy. Or, as Ben likes to say “The Joy of Unexpected Cheese” because, MAN, that girl “made me go soft”. Thank God she farts like a grown man because that really helps balance this whole “Cheese” business out.
Balance is good.
(p.s. Speaking of Her Farts..the girl has learned how to “Fart on Command”. Seriously, I say “FART, GABBY! and she grunts, turns red and “pfffffffft” she goes. Awesome)
Confessing and Professing
I am not ashamed of my Love of Reality T.V. Neither is COOKAAAAY. We confess it, we talk about, we are completely open and honest about it, we get excited about it.
But mostly? We laugh really hard about it.
Sometimes, you can actually learn from it.
Example:
I was one of “those people” who believed that Whitney Houston was “WAY too good” for Bobby Brown.
But then? This little gem aired on television and suddenly, I found myself saying things like “leave her skanky ass, Bobb-ay! Find a woman who appreciates you! One who does not blow you off and roll her eyes at you! Find someone who gets “her hair did” and puts on make up every once in a while!” God, I love that show. I mean, were it not for that show, I’d have never known that Bobby Brown had to dig shit out of Whitney Houstons ass. You wanna “dance with somebody” now? DO YOU?
How did I ever live without My Reality TV?
I know some people like to mount their High Horses and say things like “It’s not even REALITY! It’s totally manipulated! There’s nothing ‘real’ about it!”
To them I say “SO?” And then, I push them off of their horse. I do not care about that as I’m watching Kathy Griffin’s parents pretending like their “fans” buying her dvd because only 4 people showed up to her “in store dvd signing?” That’s awesome television and I’d much rather watch THAT then watch Marge Whateverherlastname and her jacked up lips solve some “imaginary crimes”. borrrring.
I’d much rather watch Gary FREAKING Busey fighting with The Snapple Lady then watch Martin Sheen “pretending” to be The President.
I don’t watch every reality show that’s out there, but I am pretty sure I watch most of them.
The Amazing Race, Survivor, Intervention, Airplane, Queer eye for the straight guy, Family Plots, Average Joe, Celebrity Fit Club, Surreal Life, I want to be a Hilton (I know), American Idol, The Apprentice, The Real World, Road Rules, Battle of the sexes, Big Brother, Blow Out (again, I know, but seriously? The Crying Hairdresser was awesome), Trading Spouses, Wife Swap, Trading Spaces, A Baby Story, Punked, America’s Next Top Model, Strip Search, MR.ROMANCE!! (only the greatest reality show in the history of reality shows!)… And these are the ones I can think of off as I type. I’m sure there are more.
See? Love? And, see? Not ashamed.
You shouldn’t be ashamed either.
It looks like Snoop is gone and won’t be coming back this time.
He’s “escaped” from the backyard many times. I always find him or he eventually (within a day) comes back.
This time? He’s been gone for over a week.
I searched everywhere for him with no luck.
When he was first missing? I’ll admit, I was like “SCREW YOU, asshole dog!” because I get tired of him busting out of the backyard to go cruise the ‘hood with Dirty Pit Bull Dog. TIRED OF IT.
But after a couple of days, I started to feel very sick inside. What if he gets hit by a car? What if he is starving? What if he never comes back?
Well, looks like my worst fear came true and Snoop “asshole dog” is never coming back.
I hope to God someone picked him up and is taking good care of him and loving up on him. And I hope they don’t do mean things to him,”SOMEONE” I know once did to him.
I am going to make a trip down to the animal shelter, to make sure he’s not there. If he’s not? Well, I guess that’s the end of our life with Snoop. If he is? I’m SO kicking his ass for making me worry.
Days go by
This morning was the boys first day of School.
I can not believe how fast the summer flew by. It’s insane. (Insane in the membrane. INSANE IN THE BRAIN.)
I’m not taking it very well and when I say that, I mean I’ve not stopped crying. The tears started last night, like they do EVERY “night before the first day of school”. I began to feel guilty and think that I didn’t spend enough quality time with them while they were home.
“I should have done more activities with them!”
“I should have taken them to the beach more than ONE TIME!”
“I should have played more Uno and Yahtzee with them!”
“WHY WAS I EVER MEAN TO THEM AND WHY DIDN’T I GIVE THEM MORE HUGS AND KISSES?”
Whattya know, I’m crying again!
I thought I’d be fine this morning, I thought I had cried all of the tears I’d cry over this last night. WRONG. When I dropped my son off at Junior High, it hit me hard, right in the gut, that OH MY GOD, first baby boy is in the seventh grade. How did that happen and please, God, slow the time down, my heart can’t take it.
Now, the house is so quiet without their TV blaring, without the fighting and the cries of “Mom! Andrew called me a jerkoff!” I miss them, I miss them SO MUCH. I don’t think I can take this quiet. It hurts.
Damn it. I seriously do not know what I am going to do the day that my children move out of this house. I am telling you right now, I will die. DIE, I SAY. And I’m not exaggerating one bit.
DIE.