The Cabbage Patch Kid

This folks is MY Cabbage Patch Kid.

If  I need to explain this to you are either to young to get it, or you have lived in a box, under a bed your whole life.


This damn Purple Hungry Hippo Pillow Pet is the reason for me to stress for 24 hours, when Bagel had insisted for MONTHS that Santa bring her this. Not the Lady Bug, or the Penguin, or the Pig, but she NEEDED the Purple Hippo. Needed it.


Now as a mommy to a 3.5 year old, I am excited that my kid finally is big enough to be sucked into the world of comercials and infomercials (the comercial for the Pillowpets is on every hour on the hour if you watch the Sprout channel) makes my job that  much easier. Or so I thought. Kids pick out toys, I go get toys, wrap them up, give all credit to fat ass guy called Santa.


For months we have gone to the website they promote on tv, and she picks out the Purple Hippo each time, also telling me Weaky wants the Friendly Green Frog. Sure. Fine. Put it off, put it off, go on the site, put it off. Fast forward to Tuesday of this week.


I hop onto the ol' computer and type in pillow pets dot com, site is up, all 20 or so different pillow pets are there, you click on the one you want and... what?!? Sold out?!?!?!? No... well how about the lady bug... sold out too... umm... Green Frog... sold out... S.H.I.T.


I bow my head, and realize I officially fucked up as Santa and it's my first official request fromt he children. Hmmm... so I do what any other crazy mother would do... I go get more coffee... chug it, then I google Pillow Pets.

Ebay, Amazon, Craigs List... they are all over! Hooray!! But wait... what's the starting bid?! $99? And that was for the horse? The Bumble Bee is $199??! Holy shitting price rape! But wait someone has a bundle of three for $350!! FuuuUUUUuuuucckkkk me!!!

We are talking about a $20 stuffed animal that you unvelcro his tummy and then the animal turns to a... wait for it... pillow pet!!

So in my desperate attempt to find a Purple Hippo, and not break the bank, I go to Facebook, and post my plee there. I had a friends tell me good luck, one friend in Arizona said she would see if any little shops had them there, and one friend said to go to pillow pets dot com, she was headed over to the site to buy a bunch for her nephews. I thought, silly nieve girl. Your screwed too.

I responded telling her the bad news, that we were both screwed for Christmas. She said, no not that site, she said to try their sister site (who the fuck has a sister site?!) at MY pillow pets dot com. Note the MY in the site name. Let me tell you they DO NOT advertise that site on the comercial. Asshats.


I go, already telling myself that I am still SOL. And that I will be getting my kid some half assed stuffed animal, or attempting to make one and it looks like this...

(this really is a ugly sock monster I made Weaky for his 1st birthday. He LOVES it)

But to my merry surprise! There are Purples Hippos in stock! Oh hail the holy credit card, I wisked it out, and ordered my Purple Hippo and a Green Friendly Frog!!

Well folks let me tell you, my lesson has been learned, I am a procrastinator by all means a professional one at that. But not for the request of a Christmas present for a kid ever again! (don't take my word on that, I do think as a professional procrastinator it is my duty to say things like that, come back next year to see what the new panic attack will be and what horrible toy causes it)

I can breathe again

Spaghetti and I had many long and daunting conversations about money this past weekend. Big ones, small ones, far fetched one, and serious ones.


With out giving too much information (too late!) we have been trying to get the taxes paid (we took them out of our escrow, the mortgage was fine, just the taxes just keep going up so high!) also with the taxes we had a bunch of medical to deal with (from Weaky's stupid "big head" check up's and Bagel's assault from the blinds over her window, and the dental from my crown) it has been a whole lotta medical, and a few other random bills.


Either way we did the money shuffle, we talked, reorganized things, and we are doing great. Yesterday I finalized the whole deal with balancing the checkbook, paying off the debt, and yes the taxes were paid (due Monday!)


I got so excited I organized the file drawer, to get the paper clutter off my big ass desk (big ass desk as in it takes up the WHOLE loft, and is a corner piece, with two side desks attached to the corner desk for the actual computer. LOTS of room for my clutter!) I still have more clutter to delete but there is actually room to breathe.


Speaking of breathing, we can breath again. Sometimes money gets so damn tight, it's like it is just chocking you. So we were able to pry the hands of bills from around our necks yet again.


Not saying I hit the lotto, or came into a boat load of money. And by the last post, you can see we just found ourselves a very nice monthly bill for the cute little beep beep in the garage! But with the way we sit and talk and discuss the money, all with no yelling, or arguing.


It's the one thing that I think keeps our marriage sane. We both know the money situation. We share everything, and we discuss what the plan of attack is.


Thanks Spaghetti for working with me, so we can both breathe again.

Thing 1 and Thing 2 are very bad kitties

(Thing 1 in grey, and Thing 2 in the tiger stripes)

From the time Spaghetti walked in from work we both could smell it...

Cat urine. Thing 2 is the first to blame for this smell, she pissed all over the sectional we JUST threw out. Weeks ago. Replacing with a new leather couch, and chair. There is piss on the couch.

Spaghetti is NOT happy. At All. No shit, neither am I and I start freaking because I know damn well the look in his eyes says that Thing 2 has only a few hours left to live here.

I can't handle giving away a cat. Or a dog, or any pet for that matter. It kills me. I rescued Thing 2 because no one wanted her. And now he wanted me to do the same. I couldn't do it.

I didn't have a choice. I mean, the couch is less then a month old! He tells me she has to go RIGHT. NOW. I freak. I go upstairs and find Thing 2 I hold her and I sob. I sob and freak out in front of the kids. I couldn't help it.

This cat may have pissed on yet another piece of furniture, but this cat is also my email buddy, during both pregnancies she would sit with me and my daily baths, dipping her tail in the bath. She is a pain in the ass, but she is my cat, damnit.

So after rocking my cat and sobbing like she was already gone. I look at Spaghetti with swollen eyes, and tears on my face. I ask if they could live in my art room?

Fine.

And so I moved them. First the cat tower, then the litter box, the food, the cat cubbie tent, the water jug, and then the cats.

There new digs aren't so bad. The art room is a pleasing purple and lime green, there is a window that gets minor light, the room is 1/2 the house in size, they have TONS of counters to roam, and tables to lay on.

But the pissing did need to stop, and both cats are to blame in one area of the house or another. Thing 1 does her damage in the bedrooms, so they are always closed off. It will be nice to have our doors open for a change. That will be really weird getting used to.

I will miss hearing them wrestle in the hall at night, or getting the run of the house when the dogs are locked up. But it is this or they gatta go. I am glad Spaghetti let them stay.

Well more time for me in my art room. Now I just need a laptop down there and I will be set (I have a fridge, food, art supplies and my cats)

It was just an insanely upsetting day. Plus I have to douse the new couch with cleaner in hopes that the smell was caught soon enough.

So as I stand there smelling like cat urine (since I was scrubbing the couch between sobs) the house is a mess, the kids didn't nap, and I have dishes around the counter top Spaghetti forgot to mention that he was having 3 of his friends over for a BBQ in an hour... oh the insanity of it all... oh and that in a few months we are going to babysit his parents cat (Thing 3) in my art room with my cats) for 12 days... oh no he di-int...

Oh and yes the kids are down in bed now. And yes the wine coolers are tasty. And yes my best friend will be over right after work.

Sunday's Soapbox. Therapy.

Here I am atop my Soapbox. Not really in a Soapboxxy mood, but let's see where this gets me... enjoy...

I was in therapy last night, no not my art room, and no not buried in a book in my tub. I was the Shrink, and my dear friend and cousin R was on the phone.

Sigh...

This is and always has been a welcoming phone call. I love him as if he were my brother. But the drama... oh the drama... he is directly related to the tard that caused me to close down InSaNiTy.

But R is different. He always has been less dramatic then the others in his family. Well it's just getting to him, the living pay check to pay check (aren't we all there?) the drama with his partner Ggg, (again we all have spouse issues) his sister L and her baby B live with them, 5 cats and a dog, oh and the guy A that owns the house.

Yes that is alot of stress, and yes no one has money these days, and yes some days Spaghetti might get on my nerves (not usual but, once in a blue moon) and yes pets will drive you nuts.

But his mom died 2 years ago, from alcohol abuse, and smoking. So his dad told everyone he didn't want to live without her. So he smoked and drank the same and died this past July.

So I get reminded that I have the most amazing parents, the best family life, and through a sobbing conversation, I am his voice of reason. His therapy, and his friend.

I need not be reminded that my parents are the most amazing parents ever, and to boot my In laws are pretty damn amazing too. That they love me, Spaghetti and our kids to no end. That I was raised in a good home, with Holidays, Holidays that they don't have anymore. That 4 kids are scattered and trying to find some where to go for the Holidays.

R and Ggg have L and the baby B to celebrate with. The others... well they are on there own, WAY to much drama, and NO baby mamma's and there 4 kids each are coming this way.

I love them but I would like to enjoy the Holidays. Glad that R has Ggg to have as a family. And having his sister L there and her baby B, will be good. I am sure this Holiday will suck, and as they say "Time Heals all Wounds" but these are fresh wounds. And with out a mom or a dad, and them in there early 30's, L in her late 20's is going to be hard.

But I need to constantly remind them, that drinking, and smoking is the way there parents died. So stop. Sigh... it's like a broken record, and my love for them is what keeps me answering the phone, because a drunk, buzzed, depressed hour and a half conversation, is enough to drain me to the point of just going to bed.

I try to be empathetic to the best I can, but sometimes they just don't seem to hear me. They just talk. But then if they aren't listening, then why am I taking time away from my kids, and my house to listen? Well because in my heart I know that I am and my mom are all the family they have left to listen.

So every few weeks I answer the phone, I talk. I listen. I try. I love.



And that is the Soapbox for today, sorry if it is sad. But that was my night last night, I should have been scrubbing cat piss off the floor but I was instead playing Shrinky Dink. I'm out...