Too Bad There's No Keanu Reeves

I have a bit of information for those of you planning on having children (yes, Erin, I'm talking to you).

Kids move. A lot. And not just from here to there, on the way to there from here they move in every direction. There is no "Point A to Point B". It's "Point A to oh, what's that, to Point C, to I need to touch that NOW, to Point G, to look what's on my leg, to Point D, to look at MEEE!, to Point F, to what does this do, oops, it was the dog, then to Point B.


That was just the movement to get to one place from another. There's also movement while stitting still. That's right. Sitting still movement. Sitting on the couch enjoying some America's Got Talent and I'm sitting still so I know the couch shouldn't feel like I'm on some sort of theme park attraction, I look over and Madison is laying on her back, both feet up by her head and her hands waving in the air.

Me: What are you doing?
Madison: Nothing.
Me: Please sit still.
Madison: Okay.

Resume enjoying watching television. "thump...thump...thump..." I look over to see her hitting her fist on the couch and letting it bounce up to her chin.

Me: What are you doing?
Madison: Seeing how high I can bounce my fist...
Me: Please...sit...still....
Madison: I am still....(sees my face, i.e. whites of my eyes)...okay.

Back to enjoying the show, of which I have no clue what's going on and why are there gladiators with alien faces? I glance over at Madison. Hanging upside down over the edge of the couch.

Me: Madison....please.
Madison: I am still. I'm watching this show...upside DOWN! (said in game show host style)

And that was just last night. In a one-hour period. And I didn't include EVERYTHING. Don't even get me started on sitting still at the dinner table. That is enough to make my gums bleed.

The way I see it, it's like that movie Speed. There has to be some sort of device in their little brains that if they go below 25mph, they explode.


Yes, Please Do That

I love it when you are driving behind me and I put my blinker on to switch lanes and you jump your fat ass over into the lane before me so you can get ahead of me. Then you drive 5 miles per hour slower than everyone else.

I fucking love it when you do that exact thing.

You are my hero.


What Do You Wish For?

Like any small child Madison has a lot of wishes. I'm sure most mom's hear the usual, I wish..., (insert random sparkly thing here). As you should assume, I never get "the usual". Here are some examples:

Madison: I wish that I could sleep upstairs.
Me: Oh yeah?
Madison: Yeah. Do you wish I could sleep upstairs?

(After walking through the haircare aisle in Wal-Mart)
Madison: I wish that I had black people type hair so I could use that hair stuff in that box.
Me: Really?
Madison: Do you wish that too?

Madison: I wish I had a German accent. Do you wish that too!?
Me: Nein.
Madison: What?
Me: Nothing.

You see what I mean now? Multiply these 3 things by 12 and that's my day.

And I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I wish that I was debt-free, lived near the ocean, had a TV series and a movie deal.

Do you wish that too?


What Fresh Hell

When you are pregnant you have cravings, well right after you have the baby you have cravings too. Mainly because you are burning lots of calories caring for said baby, secondly because you are home all day camped in front of a TV with a baby attached to you and your hair is all greasy and matted up, your wearing the sweatpants that you wore home from the hospital three days ago, the only reason you have to get up is to go to the bathroom because you have congregated all of your immediate needs within arm's reach in every direction around your recliner, and all you see all day are commercials of food that isn't within your arm's reach and you want it, NOW.

Late one night I all of sudden wanted, nay, needed a Frosty. It went like this:

Me: I need a Frosty.

Joe: Sounds good.

So, out he went to get Frosty's. YAY life!

We live in a small town. We have a few fast food places, McDonald's, Arby's, Taco Bell, A&W, and Carl's Jr.

Did you read that list? Read it again. Notice what's not on that list. Read it again. Got it?

Wendy's. Guess what Wendy's has? Frosty's. Guess what Arby's doesn't have? Frosty's. Guess who works at Arby's? Idiots. Guess what Joe and I are for forgetting that it's Wendy's that has Frosty's and not Arby's? Big idiots. Big hungry idiot dumbies.

Joe returns home from ARBY'S with a total look of defeat.

He went to the drive-thru and this is the conversation (as told by Joe):

Arby's Guy: Grunt...hmpgha...can I take your order?

Joe: 2 Frosty's please.

Arby's Guy: Second window please.

(At second window, does anyone ever use the first window? What a waste.)

Arby's Guy: (as he hands two cups to Joe) I don't know what a Frosty is, here's 2 vanilla shakes.

Joe: (dumbfounded) Err...ugh..okay.

Okay. First of all, who the hell doesn't know what a Frosty is? Does this guy live in a cave? Second of all, who the fuck wants a vanilla shake? This guy is obviously a monster.

And to just assume that a substitute for a Frosty is a vanilla shake? Ridiculous. Who makes an assumption like that, why not just ask the customer to elaborate?

"Yes, Mr. Wolf. You are coming out of anesthesia nicely. Now, I wasn't sure what an appendix looked like, so I went ahead and removed your pancreas and about 10 feet of your intestine. Hope that's not a problem. Oh, here comes the nurse with your vanilla shake."

What an asshole.


Very Important Conversation

I am a fan of The Office. By fan I mean, I can quote every episode and use those quotes in day to day conversation. I also own all of the season on DVD. It also means that I am madly in love with John Krasinski, who isn't? If you're not, then...well...awkward.

He and Emily Blunt exchanged vows this past weeekend, therefore crushing the hearts of millions. I wasn't sure if Morgan had heard the news, so I shared it with him via Blackberry Messenger, here is the conversation.

Amber: Where you aware that John K. and Emily got married???

Morgan: BOO

Amber: I will dress in all black and wail incoherently.

Morgan: As will I.

Amber: Everyone will speak in hushed tones and will let us suffer in painful silence…Does that about cover it?

Morgan: Not even close.

Amber: People will bow down and cry at our feet.

Morgan: Over the top.

Amber: Ugh. Okay…They will scurry away from us as we fling our tearful bodies down walkways and alleys. Am I getting close?

Morgan: Nailed it.

Amber: Fancy Feast!

If you do not get the "Fancy Feast" reference, then you must not be a fan of The Office. Sorry for your loss.


Growing up we were not allowed to say...the "F" word in our house. Still we're not allowed to say it. It was very against Momma's rules and the proverbial hammer came down if you so much as thought of uttering...the "F" word. If I, as an adult, am at my momma's house and I say...the "F" word, she will yell out, "AMBER! That's enough!". Whoops.

I have carried on this rule in my home. Madison will sometimes let it slip but I'm quick to correct her.
"Madison, we don't use that word in this house!" She hangs her head and shuffles on her way.

Oh, you've been reading this thinking I mean "fuck". No. The word I'm referring to is...fart. Of course my child doesn't walk around saying "fuck", and Momma loves that word, it's practically her favorite word. That word is fiiine. Fart on the other hand, that is a bad one. You can get sent to your room for saying that.

We use the word "poot" or "toot". I of course do neither of these things.

Well, I don't. Not in front of anyone at least. I'm from the South and that's how I was raised. I was also raised around heathens that had no manners and would sit on your lap and...ugh, you know. Nasty.

Joe says I do it in my sleep, but that's different of course because, hello, I'm sleeping. People can beat murder charges that they committed while sleeping, surely my gas is forgivable.

Right after my mom and dad were married, he was using the restroom...he left the bathroom door ajar. Things happened.

Momma left and didn't come back for days.

So. Lessons learned, don't say the "F" word in my house and keep your hot boxes to yourself.

Also, close the bathroom door. Noone needs to be a part of your experience.


What I Hate

I hate that hard piece of conditioner or lotion that forms in the pump of the bottle. It's probably on my top ten hates. Joe will first pump the lotion into the sink to expel the chunk and then you know what he does? He leaves it there! Like some sort of psychopath. Who does that?

Last night while washing my hair I went for the conditioner and BAM solid chunk of conditioner in my hand.

I threw up a little in my mouth.

Because this subject grosses me out so much I couldn't put a picture relating to it up here.
So please enjoy this pirate puppy.


My Cruise Control Is Psychotic and Manipulative

Whenever I'm on the highway and decide that now is a good time to employ my fancy cruise control, that is the moment that the car in front of me adjusts their speed...when I say adjusts their speed, I mean, they slam of their brakes.

I think that my car's cruise control may submit some sort of signal to other cars that says, "Hey, she just went to the trouble of setting her cruise control to the exact speed that she has been going for the past 5 miles, the speed that also matches yours. Since you have been driving this speed for so long with no waiver, she has assumed that you will continue this system of steady speed. So, why don't you go ahead and slow the fuck down."


Conspiracy Theory

Remember when I bought that pepper spray, the one with maybe enough bursts to withstand 25 attackers? No? Then read about it here. You should really keep track of these important things, there may be a test.

Alright then, I am armed with pepper spray at all times. Right? Right. So, I'm safe, right?


Apparently someone may put me in the trunk of my rental car.

Oh, I forgot to tell you. I have a rental car because something is wrong with something in the engine of my car so they have to work on it. I don't know exactly what's wrong with it because I have a vagina and apparently mechanics aren't allowed to use them car parts words around my delicate ears.

They graciously loaned me a rental car that was about one inch bigger than a clown car. When I opened up the trunk to put a pallet of diapers in there I noticed something peculiar. A plastic, glow-in-the-dark tag attached to a small rope. This tag had a diagram on it. A diagram of an open trunk and a person that obviously jumped out of the trunk after being held captive in there for hours, maybe days. He was starving and covered in pee. I can't blame him, I mean your stuck in there, it doesn't stop your bladder from functioning, you still have to pee.

I stood there for a long time just looking at it wondering how many times people have filed complaints after being locked in the trunks of a Ford Focus. I wonder if they receive the complaints via survey or phone call?

It must happen more often than I thought, for them to employ some sort of system for getting out on your own with detecting a lot of attention from your captors. Maybe it's standard issue nowadays, hell if I know. Maybe kidnappers now have to look for this feature when buying a car. "Oh, this one has a release in the trunk...do you have anything with an unescapable trunk, perhaps in blue?"

Oh yeah, I took a picture of it. You're welcome.


Go Here

My brother has amped up his blog to complete and utter awesome amazingness. Right?! You didn't think it could happen did you?

Don't know what you should be into fashion wise? Let him tell you. He's never wrong.

Go here and be blown away with fashion awesome confetti cannons.

PS: He will ask you to buy him expensive things. I suggest you do it.


It's Like Pulling Teeth

Milestones. They are something to celebrate of course, but they make me sad. I'm not sure if all mom's are like me but anytime my kid's do something that is a milestone (sit up, crawl, walk, jump out and scare the shit out of me, etc.) I get a little sad. I'm happy and excited on the outside but on the inside I go and sit in the corner and cry because that's just one more thing checked off the list of things they can now do and pretty soon they will be doing more things that will propel them out of cute, snuggly and baby-head smell territory.

For example, Madison lost her first tooth last year. She wasn't with me when she pulled it and I was devastated. DEVASTATED. Devastated that she was growing up way too fast and second because I wasn't there. Then she lost her second, third, fourth and fifth but she wasn't with me for any of them. She was with her dad, or at school, or I was at work, you get the picture.

Then her sixth tooth was so super duper wiggly and I excited that finally I would be there when she pulled it. We were at home and my brother was over to watch a movie. Turns out we didn't have it so I ran up to Blockbuster. I was gone for literally 5 minutes. When I got back I was greeted by little miss snaggle tooth with a freshly picked tooth in hand.


When I was a kid you couldn't pay me to pull a tooth, the general routine was, "Who's gonna sit on her?" My daughter? She's asking for vise-grips, an oil rag and a bottle of Rebel Yell.

Well, suckers. Today I was here! Well, of course she pulled it in the other room but it was so awesome to see her running out of the room, tooth in hand, gums bleeding and yelling "I PULLED IT!". It was amazing.

I think the reason milestones seem difficult is because my kids can't wait to get them over with, like it's a freaking race. Cooper got his first teeth at 4 months.


Not only am I now going to get bit, but I didn't realize that I only had 3 months of toothless grin pictures to take and 4000 isn't nearly enough. Not by a longshot.

So tonight, Madison read me a story and then I read Cooper a story and remembered that not so long ago I was doing all of the reading and pretty soon they will be doing all the reading. And, that's okay by me.


The 4th

Happy 4th of July! Happy Independence Day! Happy no reason to do fireworks in Alaska because it's bright as day outside day! Happy finally the dog came inside because the dryout fans are gone but now he is under my feet because of the noise of the fireworks day!

Happy Proud To Be An American Day!


25 Would Be Attackers

I made a recent purchase of a fancy pepper spray key-chain, black case so that I can coordinate it with anything. Priorities.

When I got home and examined the packaging, I noticed in prominent letters.

"Contains approximately 25 bursts, you may experience multiple attackers."

How many ways can I dissect this. First of all, 25 attackers? Wow. I must be more popular than I once thought. I can only imagine though that on the first attacker I would waste the entire can in the bad guys face, and then throw the can in the second guy's face...as for the other guy's, I guess I'll just hope they get caught in the mist. I wonder if they will be in a line. I hope so, for organization sake. 25 baddies standing around all willy-nilly, come on you ruffians, get it together.

Now that we got my popularity out of the way. Let's go over the approximate number of bursts. Approximately 25 bursts? What if there are 25 attackers, but only 20 bursts? Here I am, thinking all is good...18, spray, 19, spray, 20, spray, 21...21...oh, hold on dude, my spray seems to have run out. Then he waits patiently along with the line of 4 guys behind him. I compliment them on their patience and politeness, they blush and say thanks and go on their way after assisting me with my groceries and helping me cross the street.

Yeah, sure they do.

Another comment on the package was, "Cover your face if spraying in wind."

Really? So, I'm assuming that I ready my sprayer, cover my face and the baddie is going to stand there waiting to get sprayed in the mug.

Yeah, sure he will.

I guess all I can do is hope I have less than 20 attackers and it's not a windy day.