February 2012
19 posts
Aunt Becky Gets Fit or Dies Trying →
We'll Pretend This Whole Nip/Tuck Thing Was A Bad... →
Pop-Tabs for Charity (Not QUITE As Rad As... →
I will totally go out in Jeggings (or do another dare) if you guys help me out.
Time To Get The Band Back Together →
Life and Death in the ER
He’d been moping about the house all morning. A fever so high I worried you could fry eggs on his scalp, I tried to remind myself that kids DO run fevers, and we’d been to Mouse Hell the weekend before, so if he hadn’t just come down with what had made me so bloody sick for the past two weeks (and counting!), it was probably an Oregon Trail Disease picked up from random peeing kids in the...
Further Proof That I Need To Drink More
I think I’m turning into that crusty old guy down the block. The one who uses his cane to hit the ankles of nearby small children and threatens to take a shotgun to anyone who dares step on my pathetic patch of brown grass. Except without the shotguns, because obviously. I can’t properly use a pickaxe, who in their right mind would give me a gun?
Answer: Las Vegas.
No...
3 tags
My Parents Were Dirty Hippies →
1 tag
3 tags
Keep on Rockin in the Free World
One of my goals for the new year was to “spend some time living outside the computer, even though the real world is fast and scary and full of people who wear jeggings.” It seemed a bit loftier than “Not become Lil Wayne” (which I should add, is a resolution I’ve managed to keep for an entire month and a half now) and loads better for my self-esteem.
See, people are all, “bloggers are...
1 tag
Band Back Together: The Road To Hell →
bandbacktogether:
I always start with the best of intentions.
I make a list.
I make a plan, in my head, of all the many things I will accomplish.
Work out,
Vacuum,
List my son’s saxophone on eBay that he only played for 8 months,
Make a grocery list for tomorrow.
All small, completely do-able, you’d think.
Then I come home from taking the youngest to school.
4 tags
Legos are Bullshit
I’m not a creative person.
I’m not saying that to elicit sympathy or fish for the occasional, “there, there, Aunt Becky, you’re SO creative,” because I know it’s a hot pile of bullshit. I’m not creative.
Take, for example, the time in high school that I took a drawing class as an elective. I sat there, my beret perched neatly atop my head, all, “Imma be an ARTIST,” until I had to actually...
3 tags
Further Proof That I Suck At Life
I’d reached the point where I was simply praying that my middle son was going to find a particularly nice young man to room with in college – the kind who didn’t mind occasionally changing my son’s diapers.
I figured that there were plenty of people in the world who liked to poop into diapers (after watching Hoarders, I now know that there are plenty of people who like to poo into bags AND...
5 tags
Banana Hammock
Since moving The Guy On My Couch onto my couch, we’ve had a lot of desserts around. We all know I can’t cook. Shit, I’ve burned Jello and tried to microwave a can of SlimFast (not recommended, by the by), and not been even the slightest bit put off by it.
But the Guy On My Couch can cook. He LIKES to cook. He also likes home repairs and would probably clean the pool if the one I had wasn’t ...
Blooooooogies →
Wanna vote for Mommy Wants Vodka and Band Back Together?If I win, I’ll send you bacon. And cupcakes. But prolly not bacon cupcakes.
3 tags
The Middling Place
I sat there, glued to the end of the couch, holding onto my new baby like she was a life vest, the light from the end table next to me bathing us in a soft, yellow hue. There were other people around, although it was late in the evening. My sister in law? My mother? I can’t remember.
My sons, too, were around. Perhaps it was just the big one. The small one, based upon my memory, should have been...
2 tags
Internet Connections
I sat there, on my freshly cleaned couch (thank you o! gods of steam cleaners), in a group of my very best friends. We were eating the greasiest of greasy pizza, occasionally stopping to fetch a rogue binkie or wipe a dirty face. We laughed, talking about the times we’d shared, where our lives had randomly found us, pausing now and again to wipe tears from our eyes.
These people, my friends – my...
3 tags
The Sweetest Thing
After obsessing (I’m being kind here) and beating my brain against the wall, trying to allow myself to get over that stupid lump in my throat and just. fucking. do. it, I manged to, this year, talk myself out of talking myself out of planning a birthday for Amelia.
(did you follow that? I barely did)
I had my reasons. They sounded good rolling around in my head. I had my convictions. I held onto...