Day Something Or Other - 10 Ways To Win Your Heart

10 Ways To Win Your (My, Apparently) Heart


Hooray!!!  FINALLY a post that asks for fun and games and not me ripping my soul to shreds for  about 30-odd people per post!!! (although I am immensely grateful to each and every one of you for reading them! xoxo)

;)

Now, hopefully, this ends up being a "How-To" manual for Ryan Gosling or similar super-hot scrumdiddlyumptious non-felon sex-maniacs with American Express Centurion cards .



Knowing my luck, scores of schmucks that currently reside in their mom's basement and strip while wearing one of their nephew's cast-off Halloween costumes will be blowing up my Facebook page with declarations of love, but whatever....just another Thursday, right?

That's how I look when I am turned on too, Pheebs!

ANYway.....here are 10 ways to win the heart of a formerly adorable redhead, who is now a just-over-the-brink-of-middle-aged-chubby-Snark-oleptic-wrinkly-glitter-headed-single-mom (wow---what a catch; the Match.com ad writes itself!).



1.  Don't be a dumbass.  Smart ass, yes please; dumb-ass---thank you, drive through.  We all know -- or should by now -- that I LOVE me some geeks!!!  You gotta have something going on upstairs if you want me to hang out with you downstairs....or some other slightly less chi-mo sounding smart = sex analogy.  If you can't have an intelligent conversation with me about current events, politics, books, sports, or anything besides your net worth or how many calories you don't consume in a day, keep on truckin' Joe-Bob, I am sure there is some soap-fan waiting for you to sweep her off her feet.

No need to caption.....although I just did!

2.  Be funny.  And, I don't mean, 'dick-joke-funny'.  Yes, jokes about small dicks and ugly dicks, and guys that are hung like a tuna can are HILARIOUS, but if your sense of humor starts and stops in the 6th grade, well, you can go fuck yourself....if you can find it, that is.  A big fan of sarcasm, irony, and South Park am I.  And if you can't laugh at yourself, then you better grow a bigger penis (or self-esteem--aren't they the same in Man-ville?), because I will sure as hell be laughing your dull ass right out the door.

This will NEVER get you laid....N.E.V.E.R.!!!

3.  Be big.  And that, my friends, is no dick joke.  That is no euphemism, simile, or metaphor  (ps - if you had to GTS on ANY of those words, you may as well stop reading.  No, seriously, buh-bye!), that is literally how you must be.  I have a straight-up Napoleon Complex....or maybe a Dorothy Parker Complex (she was 4'11"!!!!), and I think I am 10 feet tall and bulletproof....I have only dated a few guys that were not 'stocky' or 'big-boned', and I seriously cant imagine doing so ever again....BTW, both of the numbskull-gobshites that I regret dating were under 5'8" and under 180 lbs....so there is that as well.


http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/news/a35545/reasons-sleeping-with-a-husky-guy-is-the-best/

 It would help if you were big AND Mr. Big!!!

4.  Like being outside.  I cannot understand city people, even though I tried being one for years, until I realized I am and always will be a hippie Ridge-girl at heart.  Every morning--rain, shine, below freezing, or baking hot-- I have to go outside and walk in the dirt and grass and leaves; barefoot, of course.  I have an absolute need to dig in the dirt, roam through the woods, climb trees, and lay under the great big sky.  I can't even fathom a life lived between an office, a high-rise, and a series of restaurants and cafes--no matter how much I wish I was Samantha Jones.  There is a part of me that is so at home baking on a rock by the river, or wading a freezing lake.  Chlorinated swimming pools and hot tubs make me want to throw up.  I need to be able to smell fresh air, get my feet dirty, and pick flowers for my hair....and if you can't at least hang for the hike....well, gg-gga-ggiga-gggooodnight, yo. 

This would have been bare feet in the woods, but you know how I feel about that.....

5.  Know how to fix shit.  If you have appliance repairmen, painters, roofers, landscapers, and carpenters that handle your problems, we cant hang.  I draw the line at plumbing and electrical problems---you are a dumbass if you try to DIY that--but, if you have to call someone to take apart your washer or dryer, call someone to unclog your garbage disposal because your mother-in-law ran potato peelings down it on Thanksgiving, call someone to level your backyard and plant grass, or call someone to repaint your house....well, I am not gonna respect you; in the morning or any other time of the day.  I am a self-taught Miss (Ms, at my age, I guess...booh!) Fix It, and I can't really respect (i.e., go shopping with) a man that has to rely on another man to keep his house in line.  YES, you could probably find better things to do with your time, but if we are stuck in the middle of nowhere and you have to call AAA because you can't tell a lugnut from your left nut, I can guarantee you are dropping me at my house and never picking me up again.  I can, and have, changed tires in the rain and snow, put chains on my own tires, and the tires of the lady next to me in the minivan, replaced a serpentine belt in the middle of the night on a road 20 miles from the nearest streetlight with a flashlight tucked under my chin, and I expect any man I hang out with to do the same....except the serpentine belt thing; that is SUPER hard, and man-hands do not help--trust me, I have 2 of them!



Yes, please!




6.  Be good in bed.  Do I NEED to explain this?  I'm going to abridge this, because I am secretly a prude about some things (no, for real!).  Here's some advice, and I'm gonna do this fast because otherwise I will chicken out:

A-clitoris-is-not-a-worry-bead-don't-rub-it-into-oblivion-you-have-hips-for-a-reason-figure-out-that-they-go-more-than-two-directions-probing-tonsils-with-your-tongue-is-not-a-kiss-a-well-timed-smack-on-the-ass-is-a-good-thing-slow-and-steady-wins-the-race-but-sometimes-hard-and-fast-does-the-trick-we-like-nooners-and-quickies-as-much-as-you-do-and-being-on-top-makes-things-better.  Whew!  Got all that, 'cause I am not repeating it (unless you are Matt Damon, and then I am afraid I must keep you after class for Remedial Lessons!).

You're doing it right.....

7.  You can be sensitive, but DO NOT FUCKING CRY!!!  Good. Lord.  who was it that told men they should get in touch with their feelings and cry???  Look, if you are (ew!) watching a child come into the world, feel free to turn on the waterworks.  Lost a family member?  Cry away, my friend, I will even lend you a tissue, and cry along with you.  Pet crossed the Rainbow Bridge without you?  I will let you weep all over my shoulder.  However.   If we are having a disagreement and you think it's all over...well, you can be sad, sure.  If you are boo-hooing around the house, yammering on about how Mummy never loved you enough, if you are tearing up because you think it makes you look sensitive, or you are sobbing over some shit that won't matter in five years...well, in the words of the totally rad Richard Pryor (as quoted by the amazing Eddie Murphy), I am gonna tell you to have a 'Coke and a smile and shut the fuck up'.  You know how guys get all out of sorts when women cry and feel guilty and bad and ready to do anything to dry her tears and make it stop?  Well, it's the same thing for me.  Without the guilt and the doing anything.  I will hand you a tampon, a Kleenex, and show you the door.  The. End.

Ugly Cry Face Knows NO Gender.

8.  Read.  I don't care if it is instruction manuals (chuh! right!), Chilton Repair Guides, Playboy (for the articles, yo), or even Motor Trend.  Just. Read.  Because reading is rad.  And I don't really need to qualify this.



Truth.

9. DO NOT let me walk all over you.  I am an exceptionally stubborn, headstrong person....if you were too dumb to notice that, well, I can't help you.  I am smarter than most people, more articulate than everyone, and am a walking talking (but humble, obvi!) bulldozer.  Most men think, "Well, if I let her have her way and shut up, she will like that."  Wrong.  Dumb Ass.  I actually need to be shut down periodically.  I actually like being told to calm the fuck down.  I actually want someone to not say 'How high' when I snap my fingers and say 'Jump'.  Clearly, if it's important to me, I expect you to drink a long, tall glass of shut-the-hell-up and let me do me....If you throw yourself on the ground and say, "Yes, ma'am, I will do whatever you want, whenever you want", I will - of course - pat you on the head and coo over how totally adorbs you are.  I may also take you shopping a time or two.  In the long run, however, you will find yourself face-down in the dirt, with me carefully wiping my feet in your hair (if you expected me to say 'on your back', that is wrong, your hair is a much better medium than your T-shirt for getting the BS off my stilettos!!).  I don't want, need, or wish to waste my prodigious Kung Foo skills on some caveman that tries to impose his will on me....that doesn't mean I want some flaccid, spineless whelk blobbing around in my orbit, kissing my ass all the time.  Figure it out, you aren't an idiot! (See #1)


Yeah...that'll help....

10.  If this is you, below, (or you are TC) none of the above rules apply.  Line forms to the right......




Yep!

Uh-huh.

Of course!



              

*sssssssssiiiiiiiiigggggggghhhhhhhhhh* We have a WINNER!!!





Day Whatever - Things You Want To Say To 5 Different People

Things You Want To Say To 5 Different People

 

 

 

 
 
  This could be fun......the possibilities for a full-on bitchfest are eeeeeennnddlleeesssssssssss!  

 

However, I am trying to keep my words and deeds a little less snarky and a lot more sappy this year, ok? 

Wait....that can't be right?

 

 

 

So, here are the 5 lucky people, ALL of whom I am going to use aliases for, so as not to share their biz-nazzz all over the interwebs.

 

#1.  ELJ.
This is hard....what do you say to someone that you think is the most special, amazing, awesome person on the planet?  Every time I look at you, I think "You. Are. Here."  And how amazing is that?  You overcame so many obstacles from the minute you took your first shaky breath on lungs that barely worked.  You came.  You saw. And you are kicking ass at life.  What more can any person ask for in someone they love to the point of insanity?  As I watch you on your journey, I am struck with wonder at all that you are.  You have created yourself from yourself.  I have watched your parents bumble, fumble, and utterly screw up at parenting you, yet you have turned into the most marvelous, amazing, joyful, cynical, hilarious, adventurous soul I have ever had the good fortune to meet. 



Always
 


 You should know that I think about you when I am falling asleep, sending you loving thoughts and peaceful vibes to have good dreams that make you rested and fulfilled when you wake up.  I think about you when I wake up, and wish you safe days full of adventure, knowledge, and fun.  When I am far away from you, I wish on stars that your life will be filled with beautiful experiences and endless love.  Sunsets on the beach, sunrises in the mountains; you are always with me.  Am I the best friend/role model/advice-giver ever?  Nope.  I am probably very low on your list of influential people in your life and heart, and I deserve that.  Just know that most of the steps I take in life, you are walking with me...not holding my hand---totally not your style!---but in the quiet moments, where I have pause to think about how lovely the world is, you are right there with my heart in your hands.  I am not sure what random, magical, purposeful, pre-ordained, unplanned acts of the universe led to me being able to meet you, but here you are. 




Yep


 You are here, and I am so grateful to be an observer on your journey.




#2. SH.
Yeah, um, how are we even alive? 
 The best thing about lifelong friends is you can say things to them like this:
"I won your divorce on the radio"
Your Dodge Dart
Posing in the Giant Chair.
26/62
GET ON THE BUS
Ooooops!!! Sorry I walked in on that!


And they will immediately know what you are talking about---even better, they will immediately bust out into the warmest, richest, most hilariously infectious laugh the world has ever heard, because they know the whole damn story from "Once up upon a time..." to "...and they lived interestingly ever after".  Ohhhhh, my dear, how I love you.  Can't even count the ways, because there aren't enough numbers.  When I met you, I was not sure I would like you---mainly because pervy Bob used YOU as an excuse for shaming me  for not hugging him whenever he tried.. But we got through that, didn't we?  We also got through an AMAZING number of goofy men....John, Justin, Todd, Vince, LUDO!! LOUIS, Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim, (did I mention all the Jim's???) and...wait, WHAT was his name??  You and I have come through the fire together, and we STILL LOOK FABULOUS!!!  I love you forever, precious, and I am so glad I had you to lean on (mostly because I was drunk) and that you could lean on me (when I was wearing flats)! xoxox  BFF, baby!



US



#3. SLJ
I guess, when someone saves your life, you say "Thank You."  Right?  Well, what exactly do you say to someone that saves your soul?  What do you say to someone that stops you when you are actively slapping layers of concrete on your heart so it can stop breaking all the time, and puts their hands around it, and holds it ever so gently until it begins to heal and beat on its own again?  "Thank You" seems so inadequate....

When I met you, I was a confused, abused, scared angry kid.  You helped me in so many ways, so many different times.  Your irrepressible optimism, your unwavering faith in a better day, and your unquenchable patience and love was the rope I used to climb out of the hole that I started in.   People talk about 'the light at the end of the tunnel' for near-death experiences....have I ever been near death?  Not sure.  I just know that every single time that tunnel got really dark, every time I was in despair and wondering what I was worth, I got a light.  It was YOU, with your great heart, holding the lamp high so I could keep going. 

This is you....

You have given so much love to the person I love best in this world, and the fact that you two have such a special, loving friendship eases my heart when I worry about the both of you.  No one knows the many times I have poured my heart out to you, or the  times you have confided in me things I will take to the grave.  I wish the whole world could know what great love you have in your heart and how brightly it shines in mine every single day.  I don't write you or call you (or email, Facebook, Twitter, or text you) as much as your real family does, but that doesn't mean I don't love you, pray for you, wish great things to you, or send you all the love I can as much as I am able.  In my life you have been a role model, a hero, a wise advice-giver, a shoulder to cry on, a friend, a hand up, and a heart that held me close.  So, dear friend, I say this to you:

Danke.
Mahalo.
Arigato.
Merci.
Grazie.
Ahsante.

And, more importantly...

Ich Liebe Dich
Aloha wau ia oi
Aishiteru
Je t`aime
 Ti amo
Ninapenda wewe

This applies to all 4 of you ladies in this blog....but not you, TC...sorry!

#4  TKS
So, I know you read this blog....and I am a tiny bit surprised about it, but not too much.  You and I are as about different as night and day in every way imaginable.  Except the most important way, the best, brightest, and most fabulous way that people can be the same, and that is that our hearts all love unconditionally. 

 You have a belief system that could cause you to shun, judge, and turn your back on me, yet all I have ever received from you is the unconditional love of one friend to another.  You have been at my side since I was nearly a child, maybe being surprised at finding me in the same place you were, but always accepting me for who I was.  When the universe smashed my heart into a thousand pieces, you offered me your heart and hand in friendship.  I danced at your wedding reception with my husband, and hugged you with joy, even though our married lives were like apples and oranges, and our experiences should have divided us....whenever anyone speaks of religious intolerance I think of you.  Because you epitomize all that is love and tolerance and caring and sharing to everyone you meet---no matter their beliefs.    Loving, "mom-ing", caring, and just being yourself.  You have been my friend for a thousand years, it seems to me (or, ONLY ALMOST 24 YEARS in Lexi-speak!), only because I know every time I see you, it will be as if not one thing has changed, and we are still hugging because we won (GO MINERS!), or hugging because we lost, or hugging because the unimaginable happened, or hugging from joy....always joy with you, dearest  TK(S), always joy.  xoxo

#5 TC
Oh, you....Dear, dear handsome, funny, interesting love of mine.  Yep, I just said it...I love you.  Interesting how that works out, though.  I love you, but that doesn't mean you love me back.  Nor does it mean that the last 7+ years you and I have spent revolving in each others orbits means a damn thing.  The funny thing about you is that I thought I was immune to you and your rather...unique charms.  We tried dating for a bit, and it did not work, for too many reasons to list even though I really thought I wanted it to.  So, I really thought I was okay with our sort of halfway-whatever-you-want-to-call-it-thing.   Then, a few things happened, and I had to wonder if the periodic, fleeting fun we had together was worth me dying a tiny bit every time I realized that what we had was nothing to you.....

I wish.....

The first was, you sent me a message about me not seeing you recently, and you said this "You treated me poorly so we quit seeing each other... not my fault I still have feelings"  And I thought about that...did I really treat you THAT poorly?  I know I used to rub your feet after work, and everyone knows---or should know---how I feel about feet--- but if they know that, then maybe they know how I feel about you.  I know I tried to make you chicken and dumplings because you said you liked it, even though I LOATHE "American-home-cookin", and your only response was to complain about the fact that I used bone-in-meat (Goooooo Southern Living Magazine!), even though I didn't know that....but I also know I pushed you away, prevaricated, was ambivalent, and as unemotional as I could be....so, yes, I probably did treat you badly.  But I didn't mean to, and if I had any idea that my being totally casual would have hurt you (and, you must admit you were a bit unobtainable yourself),  I would have offered you my heart and soul (boneless, of course) on a platter. 




If only....




 My 2nd favorite blogger in the entire world wrote a post the other day (you can find it here <click!), and even though you weren't the only ex I am friends with, and certainly not the one I preached to her about, I thought about you when I read it.  Until I realized there is no way on the whole world I could ever be just friends with you...because I love you.  So much, that I absolutely had to give you up, since we are clearly not right for each other.  This isn't a Nora Ephron flick, this is my life.  So, seemingly insurmountable differences are just that.  That pains me a lot, you know.  I kind of thought we would exist in this quasi-relationship-type-scenario until one of us got married (not to each other, obviously), and then it would be over.  Then I realized, I have no chance of marrying anyone....even falling in love with someone, until I face up to the fact that you and I are over.  And should be over. Will I love anyone as much as I (think) I loved you?  Maybe not.  Do I wish things had worked out differently between us?  Well, duh!  I will regret you forever.  I won't regret letting you pick up on me---and you know you did!  I won't regret the time we actually dated---although I do regret that you think I treated you 'poorly'.  I won't regret the last 7+ years of ...well, whatever you call what we did.  Nor will I regret saying this---
I  love you. 
I am sorry. 
I will always regret that it didn't work. 
Always.
Do you think it hurts when you prune or thin plants?  I never thought about that before you, I just know that cutting back makes them stronger, and makes them bloom and fruit better...so that's what I wish you, WP, TC, BFG...Strong and fruitful days ahead of you....
Love,
me.

You lit me up like this.....  :)

OUCH!!!  That HURT, ya'll!!!  But, it felt good and honest, which is what this whole experiment is about.....

There are many people I thought about writing 5 things to....Nicole P-J, Nichole, Aubrey, Connor, Mikey, Kimberly, Nicole L., Helena, Jen-bug, Jason M-W, Fan, Nomers, Chloe, Dahlia, Monique, and forever ANN....so I just wrote off the top of my head.  I hope you guys know that I haven't even BEGUN to tell you  things, and I hope you always want to listen....

xoxo


PS - Just TOTALLY realized I forgot THE most important person on the whole wide world----

Meeeeeeeeeee-owwwwwwwwww.  That's it.
 

Ahem.  Dear Ryan Gosling:
Dooooooooooooooode...I am chubby, wrinkly, and have TONS of grey hair---how do you NOT have my #???????


heehee.
 

Something That Never Fails To Make You Feel Better-Blog Challenge Day 21

Something That Never Fails To Make You Feel Better

So, I have been AWOL for a bit on this thing....due entirely to me almost opening my sister's boyfriend's trunk, but slamming it shut in case there was a dead body in there (more on that another time!), and then to me walking by a McDonalds and hearing a baby cry from the play area (more on that later as well!).  Both incidents left me with amazing ideas--one for a short story, and one for what is looking like an actual novel---yippeeee!!

Back to this blog, though.....


So, there is absolutely ONE thing that has helped me to cope with the various trials and tribulations of my life, ONE thing that has been able to elevate my mood, my mind, and my soul during any and every self-imposed crisis, and ONE thing that I simply cannot function without.


Music.



Kind of anti-climactic, no?

Perhaps you were expecting me to say religion...family...my children....friends....a sense of purpose, maybe?

Nope.  Music.  That is not to discount any of the above influences; they have all helped me cope and shaped my consciousness in one way or another throughout my chaotic life, but music was there before all that.  And it still is...

When I was young, living on The Ridge, dirt-poor, and dreaming about bigger and better things, I would turn the radio on and be transported.

The soundtrack of my childhood is rather diverse.  There was a lot of Beatles, Eagles, Stones, Creedence, and a bunch of other stuff that you probably saw on a Freedom Rock commercial in the '80's.

You either know this or you don't !!!

All of those songs can easily transport me to my childhood and leave me feeling excited, scared, happy, nostaligic, or otherwise sentimental.....except one:

THIS SHIT


The first time I heard this song, I realized that I, as a being, would eventually die, the world would move on, and my life might possibly mean nothing to anyone except the people that knew me, who would then die themselves....this song gave me my first glimpse of mortality, and also planted a seed in my heart that made me want to do or be something beyond this fragile, mortal creature I was....That song made me want to get up off the couch and BE something larger than the Smurfs and GI Joe cartoons I was watching...I wanted to go out and make my mark that would ensure me immortality in the eyes of the world.  I was about Six. Fucking. Years. Old.  Imagine the peaceful childhood I had after digesting THAT!!

Time rolled on, though, and like all of us, I let thoughts of mortality slip to the wayside as I dreamed of other things....luckily for me, there was this totally rad invention called MTV --it is a cable station that used to show music videos 24/7 (hence the moniker "Music TeleVision)-- as opposed to the hot mess of slutty teenagers being bad parents and lame "reality" shows it is today.

Watching MTV gave me a window out into the greater world.  There were all these fabulous people, dancing in the streets, moonwalking, being total freaks climbing out of the tub, writhing around on gondolas in Venice, and being DURAN DURAN!!!!! 

Always

My child hood was a hot mess, and not really something I like to even think about (besides the time I spent in school---thank you Ken, Ralph, Jenny, Sam, and Ginny!!!!), but every time I was down, I would turn on my boombox, twist the dial to 102.5 and escape.  Yes, I danced around my room in ridiculous outfits, yes, I sang (sooooo horribly off key--still do, actually), and yes, I got the hell out of my miserable existence and was a friggin' STAR every day!

As a teengager (read; walking blob of quasi-psychotic hormones), music connected me to my friends, helped me escape an increasingly miserable home life, and provided a soundtrack for all of the loving, lustful, wild, rebellious, and ill-conceived (Boyz II Men, anyone??) activities of "The Best Years of [my] Life.....So Far" (Holla, NUHS!).  When I think about those 4 years, I can actually hear a soundtrack marking my passage through those days......Depeche Mode and The Eagles will always belong to the Three Bimbos (that would be Sara, Nicole, and I--Three Virgins would be a more apt description, tho!)...Vanilla Ice and "Ninja Rap" and "Groove is in The Heart" ("Push It" as well...right Nicole?) belongs to my soul sisters on NU Cheer.....etc., etc., etc....



My girls...20 years after you all saved my life! xoxo
 

Nirvana came along and shook me out of my glam-rock, Poison-GnR-Def Leppard Aqua-Net daydreams, and ushered in a whole new era of noise....

Every phase in my life has a soundtrack....No Doubt, Bush, Tupac, CHer and Celine Dion (always you, Mikey!), the millennium teen popstars, and then the 2000's in which, it seemed, anything would pass as music.....if you will recall, that walking STD Paris Hilton even released an album then!

Music is constantly growing, changing, and evolving---much like us---sometimes DE-volving to utter shite---Kanye West, anyone??  Anyone??  Didn't think so.

Music is so personal, so intense in how certain genres speak to certain people or times in your life, that it is hard to say, "Oh, THIS is my favorite".   Because it is all my favorite, except Kanye.  Black Keys, Black Sabbath, Green Day, Blue Oyster Cult, The Purple One (that's Prince to you knobs that don't get that)....Much like a favorite color, our favorite music and favorite bands can easily be read to mean something about us.....

Maybe that's true, maybe that's not, all I know is that, if I could not lsten to music, I would probably be in a cozy padded room in a "huggy-coat".



But, instead, I am over here drinking wine, listening to Ed Sheeran, and talking to this guy....

The Last Argument You Had - Blog Challenge Day 20

The Last Argument You Had

 

 

Super. Easy.






The last argument I had---the only arguments I ever have that are worth my time---are always with Miss Roo.






My daughter, who is 8-going-on-46, argues with me about EVERYTHING.



I know, I know, how fucking special am I---arguing with my child....Wow.  BFD, right?



Except that is not right.  Because Lexi, that's why.



I am going to give y'all a rundown of some of her more infamous moments, as chronicled on my Facebook page so you can see what I am dealing with....

Year 2012:

Conversation at my house last night:
M-Lex, what did you eat at Daddy's?
L-Chocolate cereal!! (She knows I don't approve, and that makes her very happy)
M-Is that all?
L-Yes!!...
M-You better not just be messing with me, because if that's all you had at Daddy's today, Daddy is in BIG trouble!
L-You're not the boss of my Daddy, you are only 37 and my Daddy is, like, 85! If you tell him he's in trouble, he can put you on a Time Out!
M-One, I am the boss of YOU and what you eat, even when you are at Daddy's. Two, Daddy is in trouble if I say he is in trouble, and he can't put me on a time out. Ever. And three, do you really think Daddy is 85?
L-Sure, right? Or maybe 100?
 

While all of my other mom friends were dressed as princesses to match their little knights, or hot Batgirl or Supergirl to match their superhero children......LEXI insisted that I dress like a fat, Italian plumber--only my kid!!

Yeeeeeahhhhh...I did this for her.....

Okay, time to stick Lexi in an all-girls military academy!!
Lexi: Mom, you know that boy Morgan who always teases me? Well he wants to be my boyfriend.
Me: Whaaaat? Did he say this to you?
Lexi: Yes, he said he wants to be boyfriend, but he can't be my boyfriend because that means we will get married and I don't want to get married because then he will 'tiss' (kiss) me and then I will get in trouble. There is no 'tissing' in school."
Me: Well, didn't you tell him you already had a boyfriend? I thought Diego (friend of Lexi's from her first day care) was your boyfriend.
Lexi: Diego IS my boyfriend mom, but I am going to marry him when I am 13 and it's okay to tiss when you are 13 because you are not in school any more"

So it would appear my daughter should have been born in Arkansas.... *facepalm*


Lexi: Mom, can I cut my hair?
Me: No way, are you insane?!? Don't even think about it!
Lexi: .....Oh. Okay....but, well, never mind. I'm gonna go brush my hair now.
**side note: Lexi HATES having her hair brushed --tears, begging, crying (and that's just from me!) EVERY TIME. She has NEVER had any voluntary contact with a hairbrush in her entire life **
MOM WAITS 5 MINUTES.....while checking all of the wastebaskets! ...
Me: (uber casual manner) So, ah, Lexi? Where did you put the hair you just cut?
Lexi: You mean the hair I cut before you said not to? That's in the--(look of horror flashed across her little face) Oooops! Sorry, mom!
**mom palms face**
 

Year 2013:

Lexi: Mom, when I am a little bit bigger, you need to buy me a guitar.
Me: You want to learn to play the guitar? That sounds like a neat idea.
Lexi: Mom, I need to play the guitar so I can learn to be a rock star, because I really am one.
Lexi to Mums: I am a Veggie-tarian (she pronounces this Veg-EE-tarian, as opposed to Veg-uh-tarian), but I eat bacon, ok?
Mums: You are missing the point- bacon is meat, as a Veggie-tarian, you should not eat meat
Lexi: Bacon is not meat, bacon is food
Mums:.....Um, it is a meat product
Lexi: Are you a Veggie-tarian??
Mums: No...
Lexi: Then you don't know about what Veggie-tarians eat, Mom, so just feed me, ok?
Mums: Well played, Lexers.


Economics According to Lex: MOM: No, you cant have all my money. LEX: No problem, I will just break out all of my teeth and get a million dollars from the Tooth Fairy, and I wont share any with you!


Soooooooo, Lexi.
She has been hitting me lately.
When she is mad.
HARD.
On the phone with Daddy, she says she will not do it anymore. Then they have a nice talk about his motorcycle, her new school, life on The Ridge, etc....
Wrapping up the call, he reiterates that hitting Mummy is not the thing to do.
"What would you do if your mom hit you whenever SHE was mad?" he asks.
"WELL, " she huffs into the phone, "I would ask her: 'Do you want a piece of me, or something?!?' "
::facepalm::
**Paging Dr. Spock/Dr. Leo Sternbach**

 

YESTERDAY:

Lexi is getting annoyed with me. Sez she has been using my 3-D white toothpaste for a week, and still no 3-D vision. Tried to explain that she HAS 3D vision already. No dice. She insisted that her life doesn't 'look like the movies where stuff comes flying out of the screen' at her. So I went behind the TV and threw a stuffed animal at her face......Now she says I am a bad mom. There really is NO pleasing this child!!!

 

 

Aaaand, a highlight reel:
2014

 

On the way home today, Lexers asks, "Did you meet Daddy online at daddycare.com?" SAY WHAAAAT? "Well, there is babycare.com where you custom-pick the qualities you want your child-care provider to have. Is that what you did with Daddy?" ::Head explodes:: UM, NO. THERE IS NO DADDYCARE.COM, ROO. "Oh...no wonder you didnt find your perfect match."     ::Wheres the vodka when you need it?::

Lexi-isms from October 2014:
"Moooo-ooom, my hooker is choking Funshine Bear" (she was using a straightened out wire hanger to pull her Care Bear off of a high shelf)
While I was whistling and calling desperately for my retarded dachsund to come in from the woods so I could get Lexi to school on time: "Mom - just be quiet and listen for his ding-dong" (she meant the jingling of his tags!)

As we were headed out the door in the morning: "Are you going to wear pants with that?" (I was wearing a dress over tights) "I don't need pants, Lex, it's a dress", sez I. "That's a dress? It looks more like a shirt to me"
And, finally, on Halloween: "Mom, you haven't brushed your teeth yet" (as I was putting her into bed). "That's because I am going to eat some of your candy while you are sleeping" "You better not - I will run away and then you won't have anyone to steal candy from...you don't even have a boyfriend or ANYTHING"
.............Oh my.

 

Now that you know a bit about the person I am sharing my life with, let me defend myself against all of you parents who effortlessly toss out bullshit like--

"You don't argue with your children.  Just lay down the rules firmly and gently, and discipline them when they don't obey.  No need to descend to their level."
Whatever.  And Fuck you, by the way.

Even though Lexi argues about everything, I will ALWAYS descend to her level.... 

Even though it's not silly stuff about what she is NOT wearing to school or having for lunch, but stuff like this:

"Why do I have to go to bed at 8:00?  That's too early!"
"Because you are 8 and you have to get up for school"
"Well, you have to get up to GET me up, which means you need to go to bed at 8 too."
"No, I am a grown up and don't need as much sleep as you do"
"Well, you always tell me you are too tired to do stuff and that I have too much energy.  So, I don't need to sleep, YOU do.  I will stay up later, because I am younger and have more energy--you are old and need your rest."

 

 

So, yeah, how do you argue with that?  I mean, I DO argue with that, and always feel like I come off the loser.  Does that make me a bad parent?  I don't think so...  I know it doesn't make me a Martha-Stewart-let's-bake-cookies-in-matching-aprons-and-make-Xmas-decoraions-out-of-used-coffee-filters-type parent, but I think I am doing ok with this kid.

 

 

She is wild and funny and curious, and I let her BE that kid.  I play in the mud with her, tell her every single damn day how much I love her, I let her ask me 250 million questions a day, watch the same movie 4,000,008 times in a month with her, and smack her upside her rump when her sauciness boils over into shittiness...

 

And, yes, I DID just say she could be shitty.  Look, kids can be douches sometimes, and any parent that says that I am an A*hole for saying that can go kick rocks.  Kids are little savages.  Sometimes I let mine be a savage, and sometimes I put her wild ass in check....

 

 

 

So, yes, I choose NOT to argue with friends or family or other random dumb-ass people, and only with her, because this:

 

*squeee*

 

 

 

I will argue with my Roo-Boo til I am blue in the face, but I will never make her feel small, unimportant, or unintelligent.  And if that means I have to argue with her to remind her who is the boss (her, of course), but also allow her to express herself, so be it.  Because she is worth it.