F you Friday

F you to the slap in the face (litterly) I got tonight from the person that I had a GREAT day with. The person that made me proud to do my job as a mom. The person I wake for, feed, dance with, sing with, read too, dress, bathe, and the other zillion things I do for you. Only to have you slap me because you don't want to go to bed? Fuck that.

F you to the diaper makers. Or the dick wagons who price them. I KNOW it can't cost you $20 a box. Or even remotely close to it. But for some fucking reason I need to shell out a SHIT load of money just to cover my kids asses. Fuck that.

F you to the douche bag that spamed my email address. I am STILL getting magazine subscription in the mail. I do enjoy the free ones until I need to AGAIN "return to sender, did not request" sometimes 6 invoices a day. Fuck that.

F you to my *retarded* cousin. Nope not really mentally challenged. But when you are pissed off at your EX girlfriend/baby mamma, the right thing to do is NOT to go get piss drunk at 2 in the afternoon, drive your car into her BOYFRIENDS car, leave, come back then drive the car INTO THE HOUSE. But it gets better, you then wait for the now PISSED off boyfriend (who is bigger then you, and sober) to come outside and beat your ass. Broke your ribs. AND then you have the balls to want to press charges?!?!? WTF?!? But the best part is you just had court today. The judge sentenced you. You should have taken whatever he gave you. But your *Sofa King! We Todd did*, that you then tell the judge, very loudly, "FUCK YOU." ...Do you wonder why your in prison till end of June? Fuck that.

F you to someone special. That one person in my life that knows me, gets me. And still 10 years later is NEVER wrong in an argument. Really? Did you think talking to me like I was a drill Sargent was funny? That making fun of me because I went to tell you to stop getting the kid all rilled up, right before bed, and realized AFTER telling you to stop. That it wasn't you. But she was still just loudly laughing. Hmmm. Maybe because you do it that often? And because I then need to attempt to put her to bed like that? (see the first F you) Yes I am strict with the kids getting riled up at night. I am also going to become REALLY FUCKING strict about hitting/rough housing whatever. I DON'T care WHO it is too. She is MY daughter. And I have to deal with her 95% of the time. Other people letting her "Play fight" is NOT going to FLY. EVER. DO NOT mock me. DO NOT be a childish asshole. I apologized two times, too many. Your turn. Give it a fucking try for once. Fuck that.

Ahhhh. Now after I explain my *comments* I can go to bed.

*retarded* I have explained this before and I will do it again. I say retarded alot. Alot less with the kids around. But still when need be, I say it.

Now for the definition of "retarded" to me...

Retarded, or Tard is a person of perfectly good mental health. AND they are completely idiotic in the sense that they are just plain retarded. Sigh... now I in NO means want this to come across that I think that mentally challenged people are idiots. I just think that perfectly good people that do stupid things get the title "retarded" Family or not. (I use this on myself often) and using the "I came from a fucked up family" is getting old too. Seriously? Your 40. Move on.

Whatever. It's fucking late. I don't care. It's my blog. Hate me if you want to. Leave me a evil comment. I will just delete it. And as we all know. This is my blog, my opinion SO I say what I want too. Got it? Good. Moving on.

*Sofa King! We Todd did* if you don't get it have someone say that line out loud fast to you. Don't try it yourself. It's harder to get. Just go have someone else say it. Probably not a kid, or your boss. So to do it right, or I guess the funniest way is to write this down and have them read it aloud... "I am so we Todd did. I am sofa king! We Todd did.

Still offended? Thought so. But if you just had a Fuck you Friday. You should get my mood. Oh and I totally see why people drink. I just don't care to so I wallow my sad ass in a bath tub with a book. Or I hide in my art room. Can't wait till the weather is nice. I will be in the garden... now I just need a bath tub in my art room, and a secret door to my garden...

Sunday's Soap Box

Happy Sunday to you all! I must say I am sad that I missed my F you Friday post, but instead it will be combined with my Sunday's Soap Box... enjoy!



Dear Old Fuck in the Dr.'s office parking lot,




I am not sure if you noticed the large amount of snow that is retardedly plowed around the medical group lot? Or the fact that there are about 20 parking spaces for about 80 cars?



Or that when I did get out of the car, I was sporting the "hostile woman without coffee, running late, haven't eaten yet look?"



You must have missed that.



So because I chose to invent my own parking spot at the end of a row, you feel the need as you are LEAVING the fucking lot (leaving folks, yes leaving. SO my new and improved parking spot is of no concern to this ass hat) you need to roll down your window and yell..



"Hey stupid bitch. That is not a fucking parking spot!"



... there was no pause from me. The spew that came from my mouth had no hesitation, I was not witty, but I was crude. I responded with...



"Listen here, you cock sucker, mother fucker, ass hole. In no fucking way does my fucking parking have any fucking thing to do with you! So go fuck yourself. You old ass douche bag mother fucker"



... he pulled back in shock. And drove away.



Yes I was loud. Yes I was vulgar. But if you know anything about me, or any mom at that stress level, I had no food (I am hypoglycemic*) I had no coffee, and I was running late. Plus after the wellness check up I was headed of to get my tooth grounded to nothing to be fitted with my temp. crown. Not excited to say the least, about the day ahead of me.



I was by myself because we took separate cars, I fell behind Spaghetti who had the kids, I needed to catch up, because he couldn't check Weaky in with out the new medical card, that I had.



Needless to say I did catch up to Spaghetti, he was lucky enough to view my ever so unattractive fit of rage in the parking lot.




Embarrassed? Nope. He was though, made me feel bad for swearing. Fuck that, that guy was a douche bag, and needed to know that I will not have some old ass fuck rip me a new one because he is having a shitty day.



My parents were at the doctors office too, with Frances (she fell down the stairs last week) thank GOD they didn't hear me. But my dad did say he was concerned that the old guy could have pulled a gun on me (the paper had a story bout a guy who fell in Chicago, and these strangers were laughing at him. So he pulled a gun and shot one in the ankle)



I told my dad the asshole was lucky I didn't have the gun, since I was clearly the loony in the situation.



Either way. Fuck you to the old ass fucker, keep your retarded opinions to yourself. This little pixie is way to Feisty of a mother fucker to be reckoned with.



And thanks to no one for your support that day. A simple hug would have been better then acting like I was an embarrassment to the world.



Thanks to the random receptionist who also had to hear my story (I edited out all the words and just said I was upset and yelled back) your empathy meant alot to me.



And to Aerial who is also hpyoglycemic and totally got me. And said she would have done the same. That is why your my girl, and you get me.


*Hypoglycemic (not diabetic, they tested me with both kids)

But here are the symptoms?

The symptoms can be different depending on how low your blood sugar level drops.


Mild hypoglycemia can make you feel hungry or like you want to vomit. You could also feel jittery or nervous. Your heart may beat fast. You may sweat. Or your skin might turn cold and clammy.
Moderate hypoglycemia often makes people feel short-tempered, nervous, afraid, or confused. Your vision may blur. You could also feel unsteady or have trouble walking.

If I bolded something, that is my symptoms. It's usually cause of not eating. I know my dad has it too. It sucks, but as long as I eat I am ok.

F You Friday! *2

F You Friday is here again, this would be my second "F You Friday" post. I find it quite therapeutic! Join in!

F you to my hair.
Sigh, short pixie cut was super, and cute, and fit me. BUT I miss my longer hair, and this growing out part really blows. When Spaghetti mentions something of a mullet on my head, I tear up and flash back to the 6th grade... shudder... (yes I F you'd my hair last week)

F you to the clutter.
Gah! You drive me insane. But cabinet by cabinet, and drawer by drawer, I am purging like Peter Walsh would want me too! (It's all to much!)

F you to my nap schedule.
I have yet to get it down pat. Where both the 2 1/2 year old AND the 9 month old are asleep for at least one nap at the same time.

Some days I can get it.

Most I can not, and I am either with both kids, or with at least one.
Don't get me wrong, I do love my kids. But from 7 am till 2 p.m. is seven hours with kids. Then if I don't get them both down at 2 (Bagel's only nap, and Weaky's second) then at 7 pm we are looking at a grand total of 12 hour with two kids.

And seriously that is just WAY to much fun for me. Maybe if I had more then just the house. Like use of my yard or a park or ANYWHERE. But since my yard is still covered in over a foot of snow, Bagel is petrified of snow, and I am NOT bundling up a 9 month old for the sake of snow. AND it's just WAY to effing cold out to go anywhere.

SO naps are crucial. I am a bitter, impatient mom around dinner and NO FUN. I repeat, run to your father children. I am DONE by this time of day if naps don't overlap. And after everyone is finally in bed. I am to zonked to do anything productive. Reality t.v. here I come!



Not to many F you's this week. Come back next week to play again!

F you Friday *1

I was doing some catching up on my blog roll, reading, commenting, and the such. When I came across a great idea on Cristin's blog, Tiptoeing Through The Tulips, on the F you Friday.

So here is my first one! Fun!!

Fuck you Ding for getting mad at Bagel for sitting to close to you, barking at her, and scaring her to the point of letting go of the couch, so she fell off and cried. You suck.

Fuck you to Making Memories for your retarded eyelet containers suck, and I barely bumped it, and 75 plum eyelets covered my floor. You suck.

Fuck you to the billing company that is wanting to send me to collections for there fucking $10.45, I have called you for 3 days now, with my hot little Flex Card ($$ from Spaghetti's check pays into a card we get each January to use on ANYTHING medical) in my hand all ready to pay you, I finally leave you a voice mail, and let you know that the voice mail that is about 45 seconds long is annoying, but the entire voice mail repeated in Spanish, with out an option to skip it, is really fucking annoying. (don't jump on my ass. First off, I don't care if it's in 20 languages, I just don't want to hear it. Make it an option. Again my blog, and my opinion rules over all) either way my comment to them about the "Spanish version, and not being able to skip it is annoying" is probably why the didn't call back.

Fuck you to this weather. For you and your frigidness has caused me 4 days straight of me. toddler. baby. dogs. and cats. I want out!

Fuck you to my new growing out phase of my pixie hair. Hmmmm, guess I didn't think that one out. But the flock of seagulls look is so hot on me.

Fuck you to my RLS it is annoying. And as always top it off with a side of carpel tunnel in my left arm tonight. My computer time is pretty much shot.

So there you have it. I feel better now, play along next week and let Cristin know, your in for her new weekly venting!