But a few weeks ago I realized that I’m not longer able to hang….

I never thought of myself as getting older, but the fair proved me wrong…yes, the very same fair that wouldn’t allow ketchup…

I’ve always loved thrill rides. Turn me upside down, zoom me along the track, throw me sharply from one side to another…this gal can handle it!

Or so I thought….

Until I got on The Avalanche…

Oh Avalanche, how I despise you…

Let me show you how the ride is…

The circles are the people…and that is us going around and around and around….and then it goes the other way…

Eric was on the ground with Brooke laughing his ass off at me as I gradually got greener and greener…while the three big kids were having a blast…

I just tried to breathe…in and out…in and out….

And when the ride finished I bolted off…and tried to keep my candy apple down…

And I was successful until Eric took the big kids on the Tilt-A-Whirl…then standing there in the middle of the fair I let it go…

All of it….

The throw up was so forceful that I couldn’t help but pee on myself at the same time…

Right in the middle of the fair.

It happened so quickly I didn’t have time to go behind the Headless Woman’s trailer and pee on myself in private…nope, right there where everyone could see was the way it happened…

And then I had to walk around in pee clothes for the remainder of the day…

Veronica was not a happy camper…and neither was I…

I really thought I could handle the rides…but alas I was wrong…

Well played fair….well played….

*and no, I don’t mean up the ass you perverts, that’s always been a no go zone…

Most of the time they’re whining and demanding things like food and drink and thus causing me to hide out in the bathroom with my Kindle Fire begging to be left alone due to bowel issues, but sometimes they really make me laugh…

Like when we took the whole brood to the fair and Blake saw this sign….

It was nothing special, just letting you know what is and what isn’t allowed inside….

But this is what Blake read off to me….

He was baffled….and Eric and I just about fell over laughing at him….

No ketchup….which made Eric and I do a series of improvisations where one was smuggling ketchup in and other was an officer making him drop the ketchup and no one gets hurt….

What have your kids done to amuse you lately?

Let me assure you that my own boobies are firmly resting right by my belly button…

Unless your reading this while I’m sleeping, in which case they’re on my sides, since I tend to sleep on my back…

So if I’m not talking about my boobs, then whose boobs do I speak of?

Hope…

Yes, Hope’s non existent boobs…

This is what I walked into with my three oldest kids last week….

Yes, that’s Hope sitting topless on my bed asking her brothers where her boobies are?

I couldn’t even interrupt yet, I had to listen in….

Jack determined that when Hope got married, that’s when she would get “big ones like Mommy, so you can feed your babies”

Blake interjected and decided that Hope would get boobies when she’s a teenager because he’s seen teen girls and they have boobies…

Okay! Time to stop this conversation!

Hope, put your shirt on, you’ll get boobs when you’re about 12…

Boobs. Hope. Hope. Boobs.

Already I have to deal with this…

Please tell me I was right though…

Twelve? Right? She’ll be twelve?

Or 22?

I’m hoping for 22….

Always wanting to use the computers, the mp3 players, our iPhones, whatever they can get their grubby little hands on…

And Brooke, though she’s even three, is the same way…she loves to play the educational apps that I’ve downloaded on my kindle for her.

But sometimes you just need to put the technology away and get out some good old fashioned toys, whether they be made of bright plastic or some trusty wooden toys.

Right now with Brooke, we’re trying to teach her animals…and even though she can see them on the computer or with a flash card, I think having little animal toys she can pick up and examine will help her learn even better….

I love this wooden animal set because Brooke also gets to work in some OT skills by stringing the toys! How cool is that?

I’m all about multi tasking…

What about you? Do you try to get your kids back to old school toys and away from technology?

*this is a sponsored post 

Honestly, I’ve been planning to break up with you…

But believe me, it’s not you…it’s me…

I’ve just been so tired and stressed and blah blah blah….

We’re going to move into our new house in a couple of months and we’ve been getting the flooring, the paint, the furniture…all that good stuff picked out, because we are bringing almost nothing with us…why? Because my little monsters have pretty much destroyed all of our shit…so there’s all that stress…

There’s also been financial crap that I won’t bore you with….but suffice to say that all the stress has caused me to gain back all the weight I have previously lost which means that in a couple of weeks I will indeed be the fattest bridesmaid…

Sigh…

So anyway, there I was the other night…getting ready to finally pen my break up letter to you all…and then it hit me….

The smell of my own vagina….

We had all been at the fair all day in the hot hot sun and man…did I reek….

And my smelly vagina was like an epiphany to me….

I have to write…I have to keep my blog up…

Or else who will I tell when my own vagina is so foul that even I’m offended?

So I will make the effort to keep up on my happy pills and remember that writing is my stress relief…

So please, hang with me…don’t give up on me…I’m doing my damndest to keep my head above water …

And hopefully to get Veronica in some water….

All day long my day is filled with requests from the little people that live here…get me milk! I want a banana!  Now can I have a cookie? I’m still hungry, I want a cheesestick. Please play tea cups. Wipe my butt. Scratch my butt. Smell my feet. Play dress ups please. Can you build Disney out of my legos? Please play Monopoly with me. Get me an apple. I want juice! Wipe my butt! Spank Jack, he knocked over my dolls! Find my Ken. Please take us on a bike ride! Wipe my butt! Put on Sophia the First! Not that one, the one with the sleepover! Wipe my butt! Play tea party! Get me some goldfish!

And on and on and on and on….

Is it no wonder that I do a happy dance at bed time?

Can I be blamed for wanting to sleep in peace? This is all I want….

Is that too much to ask for? A good sleep?

But no….as soon as I get nice and comfy the assholery begins…

I know what you’re thinking…oh God Holly, can you be a bigger bitch? All he wants to do is snuggle! These kids won’t be little forever and their wanting to snuggle days are numbered! Don’t be such a cunt!

Well fuck you! I used to think that way too…but then this kept happening….

Sure, that kid is happy as a fucking clam, but Eric is hanging off the damn bad and inevitable I get pissed on.

Every. Fucking. Time.

Asshole.

And when Eric was sick that pretty much made me his little bitch to do his bidding, which is why I was at Taco Bell at 8:30 one night picking up XXL Nachos and Chalupas for my sickly husband…

When I rolled into the garage there it was…

The biggest palmetto/roach/Florida bug I’ve ever seen in my life…right on the top corner of the doorway into the house, so there was no way this bitch was getting out of the car…

I immediately called my coughing up a lung husband and demanded his assistance because this fine gal? Does not do bugs…

And apparently neither does Eric…

He didn’t want to kill the damn thing…Instead he wanted to shoo the big ass bug away.

When the fuck did he become such a humanitarian? It’s not like it was a bald eagle or a cute little bunny…it was a big nasty disease ridden roach…

But whatever…I played along…Eric was obviously delirious with fever and not thinking straight…

Besides, it was pretty damn amusing watching the dance of the roach with Eric in only his underwear, hot and feverish, leaping and signaling to me…

So I pulled a taco out the bag and sat back…

Every once in a while Eric would signal for me to drive backwards…a bit more, a bit more, just a bit more…

And finally! He freed the roach! I could roll back into the garage and go upstairs….

CRUNCH!!!!!!!

Yup, you read that right…when I drove back in I ran the fucker over…

The look on Eric’s face was priceless, if only I had it on video for you people you all would piss your pants laughing…

So let this be a lesson to you all…just kill the damn bugs…

But not the bunnies….

The hair on my legs was so long I could braid it.

Small animals could have nested in Veronica…yes, she was that funky…last time Eric visited there he got lost…

I’ve made almost nothing but nuggets, spaghetti, and eggs for dinner.

Why?

Because my house had been turned into a den of yuck.

A place of germs, sickness, funk, boogers, and whiny as fuck people….

I was the only healthy one…everyone was sick…

Which meant I had to take care of everyone and everything…

I bet you thought I had dropped dead since I haven’t posted anything in forever, but no, I’ve been so fucking exhausted I could barely see straight….and all the shit I’ve been meaning to write about I have since forgotten…

Brooke had a sinus infection and such funky boogers that were everywhere I had to change her sheets twice a day…

Jack had such wretched bronchitis and a double ear infection he needed a double shot of antibiotics at the doctor and days at home…

Blake kept complaining his ears hurt…

Hope had a funky viral thing that needed no medication but required that I drink heavily to cope with her whining…

And Eric…

Eric…

Eric has been so sick he actually didn’t work for a week. In 13 years I’ve never seen him so sick. Bronchitis which totally fucked with his asthma.  We’re talking crazy antibiotics, steroids, breathing treatments, rescue inhalers, and other various shit I’ve been dosing him up with.  And the only reason he got all those drugs in because I made the doctor appointment, undressed him, put him in the shower, made him brush his teeth, lay out his clothes, lead him to the car, drive him to the doctor, sign him in, fill out his paperwork, and then march him back*….

God help me…

But now everyone is on the road to recovery, I’ve started showering regularly, and I’ve taken care of the body hair issue…

So stay tuned my friends…

Because this bitch? Is back…

*I may as well just start wiping his ass for him…

I know, I was surprised too, but both her and JJ planned it out, she wanted to wear one of her pretty dresses to school the day of the ceremony and JJ showed up all dressed up too and also raided his very own piggy bank to bring her flowers…

Seriously? How adorable are they?

I can almost forgive her for not giving me enough time to buy a fabulous, thunder stealing, mother of the bride dress…

So I can only assume that the wedding was the reason Hope’s mind turned to having babies the following day…

As we were in carline to pick up the boys, Hope asks me Mom? How do the babies get out of someone’s tummy?

I’ve had experience with this line of questioning before with Blake and Jack, and thanks to my C sections, the mention of vaginas has never had to come up with the talk of babies…score! The boys very easily took the explanation that the doctors cut my belly open and took out the babies, no more questions and they went on their way…how easy it that? I expected the same reaction from Hope.

Oh, how wrong I was…

Hope immediately burst into hysterical sobbing.  Hysterical.  I could not console her.

Hope! Hope, honey, what is it? Why are you crying? 

I. I. It’s. I. It’s just that I want babies so bad but I do not want to ever ever have my belly cut open! There will be blood and it will hurt!

Followed by more hysterical crying.  I felt like the worst mother ever. Maybe I should have just showed her Dumbo and gone with the stork theory…

Hope, I promise the doctor gives you lots of medicine and it doesn’t really hurt too bad and it’s so worth it! Mommy loves all of you and I would do it all over again just to have you! I promise!

Mommy, I don’t want my belly cut! I don’t! Isn’t there any other way for the babies to come out!

Hmmm, now that you mention it, there is. But how do I tell a four year old that instead of getting your belly cut open your vagina is the way?  I just can’t win…but I had to give it a shot…anything to stop the tears…

Well Hope, now that you mention it, there is another way…

I immediately have her attention…What?

Um, you can push the baby out…

What do you mean? Push how?

Um, out of your privates…

Hope stops talking. Then her lips start to quiver and more tears fall down…

But mommy! Babies are very big and my privates are very small!

Yes, that’s true honey, but privates get bigger when the baby is ready and then they get smaller again…

And yes, I do want to just smash my head into the steering wheel…what am I doing? I’m obviously not equipped to explain anything to this child, I fear I’ve just set her up for years of therapy….

Hope said nothing for 45 minutes…she just sat in the car sadly….and refused look at me…

So I think it’s fair to say I scarred Hope for life…

Time to start saving for therapy…but hey! At least I won’t have to shell out for day care while she’s still in high school!

*and yes, I am linked up with Mama Kat today writing a post inspired by the word red…

The odd, hangy, junk out for everyone to see penis…

And yet I have a new reason…

A reason, that if I only had little girls, would never ever ever ever ever have happened…

Why? Because vaginas are nice and tucked away, like my favorite Kate Spade pursed that are only trotted out for special occasions…

Unlike the penis, which is just hanging out…

Which is why, when I walked in on Blake taking a bath to have him wash up, I was treated to a view of an eight year old hard on that left both of us slightly embarrassed when he stood up…

But being the awesome mom that I am, I told him just don’t worry about it, it happens, here’s the soap, I’ll see you in a few minutes…

And now since Blake was totally not embarrassed any more by the wood, he calls out to me to come back…

Hey mom! Look at this!

What I was treated to was a rousing rendition of Livin’ La Vida Loca played with a penis guitar…the balls being the strings and his other hand…well, you get the idea…

Have your boys played the penis guitar?