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.

“Do you put cat shit in your tacos?”

Thanks to Fiona and Flipp-ay I had the greatest night at the Improv and they know what I mean and why I owe it all to them.

Todd Glass, man. I’m kind of in love with him. I think you should all go to his website, email him and tell him how much I love him and maybe, just MAYBE if you do that? He’ll kiss me on the cheek and let me take a picture of him whilst hugging him tightly.
Oh, wait. Nevermind. HE ALREADY DID THAT.
HAAAAA. Man, that was a good one.

No comedian has ever made me laugh the way He does. He’s so spastic and random and SQUISHY and I just want to hug him and take a picture with him. Oh WAIT.

I DID!
Haaaa. But seriously folks.
Know who else was there? DO YOU? Gary Gulman, that’s who. Man, is he hot. Hot and hilarious. And man, I am tempted to make everything a joke because I just got back from A COMEDY CLUB! I seriously hear applause after every line I write that I think is funny and it’s cracking me up.
And that aint the “Sex on the stage” talking either. That’s ALL me.
But seriously, folks. Gary Gulman.

The chick in the picture was funny. Too bad for her I only fall in love with a.k.a “stalk” male comedians so, I can’t remember her name. She’s cute though, isn’t she? I didn’t even notice til just now. Weird.
I’m going to mosey (MOSEY!) on down to my bed now, but before I do, I want to thank everyone for the emails asking about Gabby. She’s doing much better, the x-rays came out clear (and, for the “record” when I saw her little heart in the x-ray? I cried. It was beautiful. ) and we’re managing the symptoms with steriods and albuterol. It’s awesome that you care.
Thank you and GOOD NIGHT!
p.s. there’s a very good chance this post will be deleted and re-written in the morning. VERY GOOD chance.

Things that give me gray hairs, for $50 please

I’m just about ready to take the kids to go shopping for school clothes.
I’m looking forward to it because shopping with my boys is always GREAT FUN! I can’t wait to see how much greater it’s going to be with a sick, cranky, ‘roid raging baby thrown into the mix!
I imagine now that they’re older and not as spastic as they used to be, it shouldn’t be as stressful as it used to be. I mean, I’m sure they’ll fight and argue with me about how “they aint getting that shirt because it’s STUPID” and “Why don’t I let them make their OWN decisions” and “OVERALLS ARE FOR BABIES, MOM!” But, I can’t imagine there will be any kissing of the plastic vaginas.

Just call me Little Miss Effecient or not so little, if you know what I’m saying, and I think you do.

Last week, I took “using my time wisely” to an entirely new level because last week, I actually clipped my coupons while taking a dump.
The funny thing? It didn’t even feel weird. It felt completely normal and I found myself somewhat proud, even. In fact? I kind of felt like “Woman of The Year”.
Hey, when you stay home all day long with THREE KIDS, you have to find pride in the “little accomplishments”, even if those “accomplishments” involve scissors and your ass.
(p.s. G is doing better. Still sick, but at least she can breath now.)

And the winner for overuse of the word “pissed” in a post goes to….

I’m angry as hell right this minute. Oh and? I’m pissed off. AND? I’m scared.
My daughter is still sick. Still having trouble breathing.

I had to take her to the ER again on Saturday night. They gave her an inhaler, which helped ease my fears a little, but that’s it. An inhaler and no answers.
I tried to get her into her doctor today. Oh, what do you know? He’s out all week. The doctor that I’ve loved so much for the past 14 years suddenly thinks he never has to come to work anymore. So they give me doctors who don’t know what the fuck they are doing. You see, I had taken G in on Friday and the ho bag doctor (who has misdiagnosed my children before) was all “Oh, she’s not wheezing! She just has a virus. Here’s some cough syrup!” I know she was wrong, and I left pissed off. Sure enough, 4 am the next day, I had to call 911 because my daughter was in distress and Tony was in the ER with her getting breathing treatments and steroids.
I was going to write about how my daughter got “steriod rage” and how hilarious it was because she was biting me and growling like a beast, but you know what? Three nights of absolutely no sleep because your daughter can’t breathe and you’re afraid she might die and suddenly, it’s not funny anymore.
I’ve always loved Kaiser. When we left for a short time to try Health Net, I was pissed and I wanted it back. We got it back. And now? I fucking hate it. My doctor is never there, the doctors they give me are medically retarded, the doctors in the ER treat me like I’m some asshole mother who doesn’t know shit about shit (“Do you KNOW what wheezing sounds like, ma’am“)
I feel bad for the receptionist who answered my call this morning because she got a whole lot of me in her ear. I know it’s not HER fault, but, man, I’m pissed and frustrated and scared and sad and FREAKED OUT.
I’m on my way to take her to a pedictrician in about 30 minutes. I can gaurantee you there will be some crying and possibly some cussing and MAYBE some ushering out of the office in handcuffs.
This has been the Weekend From Hell, well, except for the part where I got to meet Mindy, (I’ll write about THAT when I have time and I can think straight.) I can only hope it gets better from here, because I don’t know if I can take much more.

She’s my everything….

Another night of absolutely no sleep, but this time, it’s not because of my anxiety.

My daughter is having a hard time breathing. I called an ER nurse to ask for advice, she asked me questions, then listened to G over the phone. I was advised to call 911. I wasn’t panicked much, until the nurse said “911” to me. Then? I freaked. I called, they came, did some tests on her, said she looked ok, wasn’t in distress, but that she did need to be seen at a hospital for a breathing treatment. They offered to take her, but I opted to have Tony take her. Kaiser WILL charge me if it’s not life threatening. Tony left to take her to the ER about an hour ago. I feel better now that I know she’ll get the care she needs, but I’m worried and wishing I had taken her so I would know if she’s ok right this minute. I know she WILL be, but watching your little baby struggle to take breaths is the most unnerving, upsetting, terrifying experience.
Now, if only Tony would call and let me know what’s going on…
*update* Gabby’s home, safe and sound and ABLE TO BREATH. She was given a breathing treatment and a liquid form of steriods to open the lungs. Thank you for your well wishes.

Late night cheese.

I wonder what it feels like for my daughter to be in the arms of a man who loves her the way that man loves her.
Does she have any idea how deeply her father loves her? Does she know that she’s the one responsible for the never ending smile on his face? Can she feel the love and care in the large, strong, aged hands that hold her ever so close?
Perhaps she has no clue just yet. But I do. I know. I feel the love. I see the smile. I understand how deeply he cares. And it touches me. It makes me weep. It makes me proud and confident because I have no doubts that little girl is going to be a secure, loving, strong woman because of the man who holds her close.
She will never want for anything. . Love will never be in short supply, but will overflow in every aspect of her life. When she falls, he will be there in an instant to pick her up, wipe away the tears and help her to stand on her own again.
When I look at that picture, tears fill my eyes and yet, at the same time, pride feels my heart because I realize that I am blessed beyond measure, for my little girl has her daddy’s heart in the palm of her hand and what a beautiful heart it is, what a precious little hand that holds it and how lucky they both are.

And… AND? If I hear one more skinny girl complain about “how fat she is and like, omg, how her size 5 jeans are like so tight on her” someone is going to get sliced in half.

I’ve added yet another photo to the The Shrinking Woman set on Flickr.
I should shutup about my weight already, but it’s such a huge part of my life and what I’m dealing with right now, that I can’t. Having this public forum to write about it, to post pictures of it and yes, to get encouragement and feedback about it has been insturmental in keeping me from giving up.
And trust me, I want to give up. Especially after last night.
Last night, I was “re-measured” at the gym and it wasn’t good. She took away the three and a half inches I was originally told I lost, because it was only showing as 3 inches and then, she decided that she was only going to give me ONE INCH. She says I have a “natural curve” (see :”spare tire“) and it’s hard to get an accurate measurement. Talk about a let down. And talk about wanting to say “fuck it all to hell I’m eating a cinnabon and refuse to spend another fucking minute at the stupid, worthless gym!”
In the past? When I was “skinny” and when I would lose lots of weight in short amounts of time? I would do it the unhealthy way. I’d take buttloads of diet pills. I’d starve myself. I’d take boxes of laxatives. I’d do whatever it took to get skinny.
I don’t want to do that this time because I don’t want to die at 40. I want to be thin and attractive, but, at the same time, I don’t want to die or get sick trying to achieve that goal.
However, after a year of trying, I’m getting pissed off to the point of wanting to just stop. I’m crying as I type this, that’s how pissed off I am. I look at the pictures and I know that it definitely is coming off, but IT’S TAKING SO DAMN LONG AND I DON’T THINK I CAN KEEP DOING THIS ANYMORE.
I won’t give up. I refuse to give up, but I WANT TO. I’m sick of being the fat girl. I’m sick of being ashamed. I’m sick of my thighs rub together. I’m sick of a roll of fat jiggling up and down when I walk. I’m sick of telling my husband “HELL NO I won’t take a shower with you because I’m so embarrassed and so ugly and I’ll cry the whole time because of how ugly my body is and HOW DO YOU NOT THROW UP WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME?”
And? I’m sick of working my ass off and seeing such SLOW results.
I’m pissed off today and not feeling very positive about this whole weight loss journey.