The Reason I'm Not in an Asylum

I love my kids, I really do. Today and this whole week have been a mess... Crash is doing stupid shit, Giz is more dramatic than usual and I'm typing this with a fractured wrist. So, on to my movie recommendation... Temple Grandin... awesome movie based on a true story of an autisic woman who goes to college and becomes an animal activist and advocate. Great insights and entertainment. Loved it. The movie reminded me a lot of Giz and the way she thinks and it made me want to scream less. Which is why, I'm not in an asylum.

This day doesn't suck...

My day off. I slept in. I'm being served coffee in bed. I don't know what I did to deserve it. I don't care. I'm loving it. Its raining and I hear an occasional roll of thunder. I might stay here all day. The Cards won yesterday. The Blues won yesterday... I think I should buy lottery tickets. The cat, (for those cheering him on) has decided to pick on the dog today. Mostly because he's bigger than the dog. Such a bully. Either way, he's not tormenting me for a change.

Its Finally My Friday...

I know, its really Sunday. I don't give a crap what your calendar says. Its my Friday. I love Friday. I will be home for 2 glorious days to entertain you with my wit and maybe catch up on sleep. I like this plan a lot. The weather is good, grilling steaks for dinner and with any luck... a nap. A good old fashioned, lazy nap. Unless the cat tries to play more practical jokes...

Welcome to April

Okay, usually I try to keep my blog lighthearted and fun. Today is April 1st and April happens to be Autism Awareness Month. We all know know this is something near and dear to my heart so please, support awareness and government officials who support more funding for research. Here are a few facts:

• Autism now affects 1 in 110 children and 1 in 70 boys
• Autism prevalence figures are growing
• More children will be diagnosed with autism this year than with AIDS, diabetes & cancer combined
• Autism is the fastest-growing serious developmental disability in the U.S.
• Autism costs the nation over $35 billion per year, a figure expected to significantly increase in the next decade
• Autism receives less than 5% of the research funding of many less prevalent childhood diseases
• Boys are four times more likely than girls to have autism
• There is no medical detection or cure for autism 

 Thanks to everyone!

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Uh, for the eleventeenth time...

We do not have a garbage disposal. I repeat this everyday. Sometimes several times in the same day. Yet, Crash can't work it out, Giz can't work it out, Mr Christina can't work it out. This has been a crappy day. Crappy at work, (literally) crappy at home. I still want to punt the cat into next Tuesday. I want 37 1/2 hours of sleep, a 12 pak of Bud and an address that even 911 can't find. Applications for staging my kidnapping and/or helping me fake my death are now being accepted.

The cat's revenge

If you've been following my blog, you know that my cat has a vendetta. When we left off, the cat woke me up at O'dark thirty because he was doing his dirty deeds with a stray outside my bedroom window. I thought I had solved that problem by keeping his amorous ass in the house at night. And it worked. For a while. He didn't wake me up for almost a week. Today, at O'dark thirty, he struck again. Normally, I'm a side sleeper. I like curling up, finding my sweet spot and drifting off to a peaceful dreamland. Mostly, I stay asleep once I find that spot with the exception of the occasional 'wake up to pee' moments. Sometimes, when my allergies are wreaking havoc, I sleep on my back so I can breathe. If you don't suffer from nasal allergies, I hate you. You are lucky and I hate you. Last night was one of those nights that I really needed to sleep on my back. I was reasonably comfortable considering this is not my preferred sleeping position. I was sleeping fairly well. Not really the best sleep but still, decent enough. Until the cat came in. If I neglected to mention, this is not a small, puny looking cat. This is a ginormous, fat, lazy cat. He's larger than my 5 pound chihuahua. Meaner, too. For some reason, that only the fat cat knows, he felt an overwhelming urge to use my stomach for a springboard while I was dead asleep. There are certain ways that I prefer to be woke up. This is not one of them. Not only did it scare the holy hell out of me, it was physically painful. I grabbed something off the night stand, threw it in the cats general direction and went back to sleep. Just as I reached that place between awake and asleep, fat cat dives off of the headboard and right back into the middle of my stomach. I'm awake now. I'm not happy. The cat, that bastard has a smirk on his face. I know a cat smirk when I see one. I get some coffee and the cat follows me. Mocking me. Laughing at me. Bastard.

I love you gay guy at my bank...

I love that you have that shirt in every color. I love that you give me sugar free candy because you know and remember that I'm a diabetic. You're a bag full of adorable. You're always happy and smiling even when I'm having a super crappy day. Thank you for being you. That's all. The end. P.S. I noticed you checking out my husband... if you can flip him, he's all yours.

Reasons why I'm crazy

My kids insist upon it.
 For some reason, if I were to be a normal mom(whatever that is) I really think this parenting thing would be an epic fail. I can't see myself doing the whole, naughty step thing. They'd think I'd gone soft and the inmates would be running the asylum. Also, humor keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously. We just aren't that kind of family. Something would be seriously wrong if I didn't shout the phrase, " stop running up and down the hall or I'm gonna break your knee caps" at least once a day. Granted they laugh when I say it, but the do stop running... as fast...

Hockey is happening tonight...

Its almost the end of the season. I've laughed ( at Minnesota's uniforms), I've been near tears (about being devoured by the injury bug) and I've been entertained. Right now, I'm a little of all three. For those of you who don't give a shit about hockey (I don't know how you made it past the snipers), today was pretty normal, even for me. So far, my kids haven't done anything crazy but the dog did eat the rest of the Midol. She looks rather comfortable. Me, not so much. So, I say go forth with your evening and enjoy whatever it is you enjoy. Tomorrow is back to work and god only knows what crazy shenanigans ( I love that word) I'll be reporting tomorrow!

The Tuesday Thread:

I started this blog hoping to share a few funny stories, make a few bucks and get paid to do what I love. Write. So far, I've done all 3 and I want to keep doing it. I love that you all seem to enjoy my threads and would love more feedback (and more ad clicks... shameless, I know). Also, if you visit my profile, you will see links to some of my favorite blogs. Visit them. They're great. One is about saving money! Conservative Opioninated Working Mother is a great source for deals and coupons. Go support her blog! Chris and Melissa's Shores is a great blog with a link for their website... great deals and great way to support small businesses. That is all... Enjoy your Tuesday!

There's a pretty little girl...

locked deep inside herself. She knows she real and see's her face and knows something is just a little different. She loves with out conditions. She trusts without doubts. Her smile brightens the darkest of rooms, her chestnut curls bouncing with her every step. Her heart is more pure than the first winters snowfall in the most pristine of valleys. She excels in everything she attempts and shows the world how beautiful and truly majestic things are through her chocolate eyes. She asks for nothing yet demands everything. And she deserves even more.

Why it should be legal to kill some people...

My 2 youngest girls had doctor appointments this morning. I always take them. Their dad hates the doctors office. I don't mind. Usually. Today, some repairmen were working on something in the ceiling and were using a drill. Some of you may know that Giz, my 8 yr old is autistic. Some noises freak her out a little. Some freak her out a lot. If she doesn't know its coming, its usually worse. So, she climbs in my lap and covers her ears because that's what she does. I'm holding her, calming her. Doing the things I know to do when she's upset. Across from me sits a man about my age. Nothing remarkable about him other than, from his attire, he appears to do physical work. Boots, jeans. Average for my area. In a loud voice, to no one in particular he says, "that's what the hell is wrong with kids. Parents baby them and they grow up to be worthless, useless brats".

Anyone wanna guess who is really pissed off???

Mexican food for dinner... oh my...

So, we decided on Mexican food for dinner. I sure as hell wasn't going to make it so off to a local place, where my daughter pointed out, was made by real Mexicans. I love the whole authentic experience. I'm thinking 'cervaza' (beer for your rednecks). So, we get in, order our food and in no time, it was on the table. The decor in this place is great. Lots of bright colors, real Mexicans and hot food, good food. As the girls are looking around and eating, I notice something moving behind Crash's head on the back of the booth. I lean a bit to the right and yep, there it is... a cockroach. A real live one... I don't want anyone to freak out too much so I sorta casually mention to Crash that its there. She glances over her shoulder and says, " They just wanted to make sure it was a real authentic experience". And, she goes back to eating. I can no longer eat at this point. I'm mesmerized. I finally get the attention of the waiter, who comes over, makes the diagnosis, grabs some napkins and squishes it. It takes something really special to put me off my dinner. I can stomach most anything but it occurs to me that, if they come out to greet us and have dinner with us, their numbers are greater than the 1 I saw. As, we are walking out, Giz says, ' La Cucaracha.... leave it to the Mexicans to make a song about cockroaches'. I love my kids.

Its Sunday...

Well, for you its Sunday. Today is my Friday. I'm happy. I'm also tired and bitchy because its almost April and there's about 5 inches of snow on the ground that I didn't want. I should not be digging my car out but I have to because of the Mother Nature mood swings. Blah! No one played along with me yesterday on Make your own holiday day. You suck. That is all.

Today is National' Make Your Own Holiday' Day!

So, how about you guys entertain me for a change... If you could create your own holiday, what would it be? I'll go first. For me it would be Celebrate an Autisic/Special Needs Child. Go!

Missouri Weather

Here we go again. A week of beautiful spring weather. I loved the warm sun on my skin (except the part where I sunburned my ladybits but that's not what this post is about. It feels better now thanks for asking, except the part where it itches now and, never mind) Where was I? Oh yeah, spring. Well, let me tell ya some one took it hostage and won't even send a ransom note. After that lovely weather that I was loving, we have winter weather advisories today. We are expecting 2-5 inches of snow. That is unacceptable. Its cold. I'm sick of cold. I like warm. I think this is all a big scheme by the government to somehow stimulate the economy by making us panic. Okay, maybe its a reach but someone has to take the blame. This is your Saturday morning thread. That is all. The end.

How to make a snowglobe in your house...

My friends who know this story have asked me to post it here, so here is what my kids did on winter vacation.

My youngest daughter loves how things feel. So, she had this wonderful pillow that had those teeny, tiny little microbeads. Like the one's you find in a bean bag only way smaller. My daughters have an amazing imagination and they decided to drag my little niece into their shenanigans. Giz wanted to make a snow globe in her room. She thought it over and came up with a great (not so great from my perspective) plan to make this snow globe. She ripped the pillow with the teeny, tiny beads and set it on top the vent in  her room and waited for the heat to kick on. It worked perfectly. I spent a week picking that shit up out of every nook and cranny in her room, out of her hair, out of her sisters hair and places that I didn't know that shit could get lodged. Yay imagination!

I love free entertainment...

There's a small salon across the street from where I work. Its a quite unassuming little place. Most mornings, I notice one of the guys who work there out back with his dog, having a smoke. The guy is having the smoke, not the dog. Until today, I only assumed that he was gay because he has better hair than me and works in the salon. Today, the guy who normally drops him off got out of the car. Before I could tell what happened, they are both in the parking lot screaming at each other. And doubts I had about his sexual orientation were instantly erased. I'm nosy by nature. I totally stopped what I was doing because now I wanted to see what was going to happen next. More screaming... boring, then the bigger guy shoved the smaller of the two. Now THIS is getting interesting. A few employee's of the salon had began to gather but at a bit of a distance. It was killing me. I had to know what was going on. I casually walked over and blended with the small group as though I belonged there. I was intently listening. I was right! Lovers quarrel! The bigger guy is screaming in the face of the smaller, well manicured guy and thats when it got physical. I love a good fight. Love, love, love it. Some of the ladies in the group were shaking their heads more out of distaste than disbelief... I thought this was a good time to interject and strike up a conversation... Apparently, throwing 5 buck on the ground and saying, "I'm in for 5 on the guy who's not crying" was not the best conversations starter.

Snow again?

For about a week, there was a taste of spring. I was suffering from the usual allergies, windows open, fans on and then... it was taken away like candy from a baby. Its cold. Not a little bit cold but damn cold. Its sort of snowing. I want to call it snow. The weatherman who gets paid to lie to me is calling it snow but its not really snow. These are half dollars size wads of slush falling from the sky and and landing with a syrupy thud. I don't usually mind winter, except when it lasts for six months. The forecast according to the lying bastard weatherman: 2-4 inches. My forecast: decreasing will to get my ass out of bed with increasing bitchiness. I've had my coffee, I've had time to come to terms with the weather. I'm still not perked up and happy. Add 2 kids who think it should be a snow day. Yay. Its Friday.

The Princess of Narnia lives in my house

I know this because she announced it when she came home today wearing the crown. Exactly what she needed, a freaking crown and more encouragement. The conversation as she walked in the door:

Giz: I am the Princess of Narnia and I have a crown!
Me: Lovely. Your room sort of reminds me of Narnia... it was
cold and dark... and a hot damn mess.
Giz: Uh, well who messed up my room?! *indignant look*
Me: Freaking seriously Giz? Yeah, I was bored after work so I came home and threw your clothes all over the place and hid a cookie under your pillow.
Giz: You found my cookie! I was wondering where I put it.
Me: Please clean your room.
Giz: I can't. I'm too hungry. Can we just lock the door and get me a new room?
Me: *groan*

I'm not buying veggie soup again... Ever.

What you won't do is open a can of veggie soup that I paid for with my hard earned money and throw it in the toilet and tell me you're sick. Also, just a side note, don't leave the can in the waste basket next to the toilet genius. You owe me a can of soup. That is all.

And that's how the catsup got on the ceiling...

I have failed. As a person. All my life, my motto was ' don't ask questions that you don't really want the answers to'. I broke that rule... and I am so sorry that I did. I heard sneaky giggling coming out of the kitchen. Very sneaky. So, like a good mother, I went to see what they were doing. I look around and at first, I panic. It was everywhere. I was sure one of them severed and artery. But no. Giz put the catsup on the floor and jumped on the bottle because she wanted to see what would happen. It was so much fun, she jumped again, harder and harder until my kitchen was covered in the red slime. *sigh* I don't want to break her curious spirit. I really don't. I also don't want to clean up the catsup. So, after much deliberation... catsup is now banned. Moving on...

Things I never thought I would say:

Stop mooning the fish.
Don't eat your hair.
You can't put that in the dog's butt.
Stop spraying the cat with apple juice.
No, you can't take your paintball gun to school.
Why did you put the oatmeal in your pocket?
Quit throwing your sisters toothbrush in the toilet.
No, take it out before you pee.
Stop putting stuff in your ear.
Take that duct tape off the cat, now.

I can't be the only mom who has had to say this shit. Am I?

Please visit...

My friend Lori's blog. You can find the link in my profile section. But hey, while you're here, click a few of those ad's and help me make a few bucks. It cost you nothing and you don't flip anyone off with that finger anyway.

I don't really ask for much out of life...

And lately, I've been receiveing it in abundance. My house was semi-clean when I went to bed. The kitchen wasn't too wrecked. The dogs seemed happy. Kids were in bed. Hockey was quietly playing in the background. I drifted off to the sounds of a great scrum on the ice. All seemed right in my world. So, when I woke up this morning, I felt rested and refreshed and fairly sure I would just let the dogs out and stroll in to make coffee. I was soooo wrong. Dishes piled up in both sides of the sink reminded me of Thanksgiving aftermath. The delicious brownies I made lay uncovered on the stove and the newspaper that I enjoyed yesterday was strewn about the living room. Now, the kids were in bed before me. The dogs seemed content so who created this mother of all messes? The light bulb comes on. My eyes grow wide. The cat must be seeking revenge for me interupting his booty call yesterday morning! Yes! That must be it! That clever cat managed to dirty up the dishes and defile my delicious brownies and then just to hammer his point home... threw my news paper around! That clever bastard.

I survived another day...

I've managed to get the laundry down to just a few loads... I considered just throwing them away. I can't be the only one who ever wanted to do that. Don't judge me! Crash and Giz both survived the day and somehow, just as they come to hug me and say good night, I forget about all the insane shit they put me through in the course of the day. I know God makes them cute like that so you don't kill them. So, back to work in the morning and someone else will have to hug them and kiss them and pick paper out of their ears... And, if I get woke up to cat sex again, I know a kitty that's gonna get his meow taken out!

Phone calls I never thought I'd get.

Me: Hello?
School Nurse: Hi there Mrs Stegemann! This is Shelly, the school nurse. You'll never guess why I'm calling!
(The last time she called, Giz broke her glasses and was hysterical because she was convinced that they broke because she was whistling indoors after I told her it was bad luck to do so)

Me: Oh God... which kid?
Nurse Shelly: Emily wadded up some paper and shoved it in here ear.
*long pause*
Me: She, uh, what?
Nurse Shelly: yeah... she said that she had it by her ear and it just fell in. I told her I didn't believe that for a second. I got it out and told her I was going to call you. That's when she started crying.
Me: yeah... um, she, uh, I don't know what to say.
Nurse Shelly: She said she was pretty sure you were going to spank her. I told her she's not the first kid to ever get a spanking. She won't be the last. 
Me: Yeah... she's totally right.
Nurse Shelly: Well, that's how it goes sometimes when you do dumb stuff.
Me: Well, thanks for calling and uh, sorry.
Nurse Shelly: No problem... have a good day. I'll let you know if the other one comes wandering in hysterical. * I can hear the smile in her voice*
Me: Have a good day Shelly. Glad it wasn't headlice or something. Bye.

Seriously?

What you won't do is run in your room and change clothes 5 minutes before your bus comes and have your underwear that I didn't buy hanging out of your pants. Where does a 10 year old get those kind of panties? I didn't buy these little stripper panties... Crash... its gonna be a long week for you.

I know your calandar says Tuesday

But this is my Sunday. That's right Sunday. I go back to work tomorrow. So, I bet you're wondering what I'm going to do with my day off. Get a massage? Do a little shopping? Take a nap? No, no and no. I will spend the day cleaning up after the little needy mess makers that live here. Rotten little spawn that have no problem spilling shit everywhere and just leaving it. Sink full of dishes and an empty dishwasher. A fleeting thought of banishing them all to the basement. Maybe if they have to live in the dark... but no. Apparently, the state child agency frowns upon that. I'd ask them to help but Crash, the 10 year old, cited child labor laws... that damn school, teaching them how to read...

I know why the stray cat howls...

There are few things in life I hate worse that getting woke up 10 minutes before the alarm goes off. Today is one of those days. There is a stray cat and  my cat. Both out for the night. Both battling for a prime spot on the porch rail. I heard the screeching. I knew what it was. I didn't care but it was so damn loud. Lucky for me, the spot they were battling for is just outside my open bedroom window. *groan* I get up and go open the front door. I'm sooooo pissed at these cats. I fling the front door open and the cats are still howling. I flip on the porch light and the cats are... having cat sex. Not fighting. Night brawling in a fur flying frenzy. Cat sex. As soon as I turned on the light, our cat and clear instigator of the howling, looks up at me and he does not look happy. The stray runs off and I have effectively cock blocked our otherwise fat, lazy, motionless cat. I open the screen door, the cat walks in and looks at me like I owe him money. Moral of the story: I hate getting fucking woke up 10 minutes before the alarm goes off.

While you're here, visit one of my sponsor's and help pay the light bill would ya?

My first rant...

What you won't do is stand in front of me at 7pm and tell me you forgot your fucking homework and expect me to make that shit magically appear so you don't get in trouble at school. Its called responsibility... learn the fucking word. If you woulda remembered your homework, you might have figured out what that word means.

Welcome to my blog

I wanted a place where I could rant and rave about all the shit that pisses me off and share some funny stories with my friends. We are all adults here so you do not have to censor yourself. Relax, unwind and let it go!