Morons driving cars and bitches with Tourettes...

Okay, let me preface this with the acknowledgment that I may think I am the most considerate and thoughtful driver out there, when in fact I am probably totally pissing off everyone within a one mile radius due to my driving skills...or lack thereof...that being said, let the bitching begin!!!

I am one hundred percent positive that THE MOST MORONIC DRIVER'S IN THE WORLD all have children who attend the same school as my kids.

That ain't even funny.

My kiddos attend a charter school that does not offer busing and we live a few miles away...so my crazy little animals have to be transported to and from school every day.  No biggie.  I signed up for parenthood(see previous post on this damn blog somewhere) and I accept that it is work...work that includes serving as a chauffeur who drives a well loved minivan and never gets tips.  Oh well.

So anyway, back to the morons...

First of all, I think there should be a law that you CANNOT leave your car running and then walk away...stroll across the parking lot...hustle on over and make chit chat with a friend...move any farther than two feet away from your vehicle that is currently ON and a possible machine of death if some child decides to get in and screw around.  And when these dumb ass people do it when their car is the one DIRECTLY in front of mine...HO   LEE   SHIT!!!  They obviously cannot read my lips as I cuss them out and shake my fist in fury.

Secondly, I do not understand what sort of nitwit would look at the pick-up lane, see that everyone is parked on the right side and then exiting in the left of the lane...and decide to sit in the mothertruckin' left lane.  HO  LEE  SHIT!!!  Do they not realize that I have shit to do, places to go, other morons to obsess over?!  Seriously people.  Tobi is here.  Pay attention.

  

In my moments of insanity and rage, when I am getting depressed about the fact that I cannot jam my minivan into the back of that gas guzzling SUV in front of me...I sit open mouthed and agog, in wonder at the absolute selfishness of these other drivers.  I do, I really do.  My kids are just as important as yours(well, a lot more important as they have my blood running through their veins and will probably change the world someday)...I have things to do as well(mostly just Farmville and thinking of snarky things to create a blog about)...and I want to get outta that clusterfuck too! 

Besides, someone might recognize me as the PTO President...and how would that look when I am flipping off another parent and doing my best impersonation of a drunken sailor?!  Don't fret, I have a plan.  I will just have to pretend I have Tourette's and hit the gas like a champ! 

Parenting isn't easy....but monkeys do a better job than some of you...

I love my kids.  I truly do.  I know they love me too...but they don't like me a lot of the time.  And I don't give a shit.  In fact, in my mind that means I am doing my job right.

I am getting really tired of all these parents out there who do things in order to please their children, to look cool or make themselves feel good.  What a bunch of idiots we have raising the next generation.  The rest of us should all be afraid...very, very afraid.

I know parents who let their teenagers drink and smoke and party at home.  No lie.  What the hell are they thinking?  How do you teach your child to become a responsible adult when you yourself are a complete dipshit?

Doing things in order to please your child is like letting the monkeys run the zoo...not such a great idea and bound to fail.  We as parents are supposed to set the example and lead the way...not sit on our asses and give in to some snotty ass kids demands because saying yes is so much easier than saying no.  NO is my favorite parental word.  Two little letters that mean oh so much. 

No means I have made a decision.  No means I am in charge.  No means you better do as you are told.  No means I have the upper hand.  No means you are my subordinate.  No means NO.  

I wish these nitwits who have created these spoiled brats would just stop the madness.  Stop giving them the newest, fanciest phones...especially when they continually lose them.  Stop making their bedrooms into little palaces filled with whatever their little black hearts desire...especially because these kids with computers and internet are turning into hoochies and pervs.  Stop letting them wear whatever they want and buy it from anywhere they want...especially because they don't pay for it and they sure don't appreciate it.

It pains me that these people don't have enough intelligence to think ahead and understand the ramifications of what they are doing.  Sure, you go ahead and be the the "cool" parents for now.  You certainly will never win Parent of the Year, but I can promise, you are definitely in the running for Idiot of the Year.  In fact, I am going to nominate a whole slew of dummies when I am done here.  

Trust me, I am well aware that I myself am not Parent of the Year material myself.  It's not for lack of effort though.  I make my kids eat what I cook...and my cooking ain't grand, so I understand how painful this can be.  I make them wear clothing from stores that have "mart" in the title.  Insanity, I know.  I have bedtimes and make them be in BED at the predetermined TIME.  I have them do chores and do not give rewards for doing what they should be doing.  No one gives me a dollar for putting my dirty undies in the hamper, why the hell would I give you one?  I make sure that my cell phone, television, and computer are all nicer than whatever my offspring have...I am the adult, I buy my own things, it's my right.

There are days my kids make me want to lock them in a cage...or lock myself in a closet.  Kids do that.  It's their job.  So that way, when they move out, as much as we will miss them, we will also be glad to have that part of parenting over and done!  

Until that lovely day, many years from now, I have work to do.  I don't always want to get up off my duff and miss the end of whatever show I might be watching just to make sure the kids are indeed cleaning their rooms.  I never feel like reminding them that they don't get a toy at the store unless they have earned their allowance.  I don't like cooking for them 90% of the time, when it's sooo much easier to order out or pop something in the microwave.

However, I am not a moron, douche, or asshole.  So I do what I am supposed to do as a GOOD parent.  And will continue to do it, for my entire life.  To all of you who do the complete opposite, I would like to wish you luck in dealing with your spoiled, selfish monsters as they grow into self-absorbed entitled adults...but I don't feel like it.  I'm far too tired from having just parented all day.

There's a penis on my Nickelodeon show!

So, that weird picture is Muno, from Yo Gabba Gabba!, a show on Nickelodeon aimed at preschoolers.

I KNOW I am not the only person that sees this for what it is.  It is totally a penis thing...a one eyed monster...a french tickler...

Why?  Isn't the freaky-deaky dude in a spandex onesie enough to keep us rubber-necking parents glued to the tube?  Yes, he is....but adding Muno just takes it to a whole 'notha level of creepiness.

And then some of the songs...God help us.  "There's a party in my tummy"?  Or maybe my mind is totally perverted and I am making something lovely and innocent ugly and gross...

What about other song that makes me scowl and wonder how many pedophiles are on the creative staff for this show...the lyrics go a little something like this(well, EXACTLY like this, I googled it)...

"Try it. You’ll like it.
Try it. You’re gonna like it.

I know it’s new, and you’ve never tasted it.
You’ll just have to trust in me.
Just give it a try."

Whatcha tastin' there, darlin'?  Do we even want to know?  Am I totally fucked in the head or is Nickelodeon just prepping my kids for some sort of sick pedophile fest?  I don't know...but I'm watchin'.

What is YOUR legacy?

I am not the person I planned on being...  

I had big plans, lots of dreams...  

there were so many people I wanted to be...  

a paleontologist...  

an architect...  

an author...  

a teacher...  

a lawyer... 

a psychologist... 

I was going to go to college...and finish, get that diploma!

I was going to marry by 24 so that I would have my first child at 25.

I was going to be done having children by the age of 30 and then really focus on my career.

I was going to be appreciated for my intellect.

I was going to make my mark on the world in some way that would be a true legacy.

Of course, this was all in my head.  What I thought I could do if everything just went according to plan...but plans change.  Life is like that.  Sometimes it's happenstance...and sometimes I believe it's God at work.

I am not a college graduate...I started and left...and started again...and left again.

I didn't marry by 25...I was a couple of years late on that one.

I had my first child at 21...and, gasp, out of wedlock!

I did have my last child at 30...so take that!  That's one for me, suckers.

I am appreciated for making sure underwear is washed and cookies are stocked.

I haven't made a mark on the world in the way that I intended.

I am not a paleontologist...but I can answer all sorts of questions about dinosaurs for my eight year old son.

I am not a lawyer...but still find joy in a good argument and making sure I have my say.

I am not a teacher...but I am a mother, and I have a chance to teach my kiddos something new all the time.

I am not an author...but I have internet access and this blog, and that will do(for now).

My legacy will not be a book that defines a generation...a discovery in Montana that changes the face of what we know about dinosaurs...or designing the world's most beautiful skyscraper.  Ah, how that pains me...

Instead, I am married to a man that loves me for me....bitchy, lazy about mopping and cleaning toilets, prone to trying recipes that totally tank, un-skinny, and unwilling to dye my grays(or nature's highlights, as I call them).  He is a nut and annoying...and all mine and worth the wait.

I have wonderful children that drive me crazy and make me laugh.  My babies are my pride and joy.  They are strong willed and funny and so unique in so many ways.  One is a completely wacky, offbeat, insane teenager who is so atypical of his age, it's a blessing...my eight year old is riddled with odd little obsessive/compulsive habits, wonderful artistic talent, and soaks in knowledge like I breathe air...my six year old baby girl is a little fashionista that wears as many pieces of clothing and jewelry as she can, with a sweet little heart underneath all her sass.

And THAT is my legacy, in the end.  The family I have created.  THEY will change the world someday...and maybe it will just be that they have a family of their own.  And that is good enough for me.

Reality tv?! Yah, sure.

I watch reality television.

I sure do.

Too much of it, probably.

And I am sure some people will think I'm a moron for doing it.

But I don't care.

I sure don't.

If growing up in New Mexico and New Jersey wasn't enough to totally screw me up, reality tv watching won't do much harm.

My only problem is having that word 'reality' in there.  Seriously?!

Reality is living paycheck to paycheck.  Looking through your bills and deciding which ones can wait.  Driving a mini-van that's four years old....and your husband's car is probably older than that!  Having your kid's birthday party at your house, with a cake that you made.  Eating at fancy-ass restaurants is something you do on your anniversary.  Taking care of your children is something you do, not a job for Lola the Nanny.  I have never, ever seen a real housewife of any kind on the Real Housewives of (insert city/state here)...hell, most are not even wives!  I am debating on whether or not to start a campaign to convince them to change the name of the show to "Rich Bitches You Love to Hate...and Hate to Love".  It is much more accurate.  Real, ya know?

Another screwed up version of 'reality' is that mess on Jersey Shore.  Even the Italians on there are fake!  Helloooooooooo, Snooki!  It disturbs me deeply that this nasty VD fest is so popular with teens and tweens.  What is it teaching them?  Let's see...one, Oompa Loompa's enjoy hanging out at the boardwalk...two, it doesn't matter who you screw, as long as it's all documented by some creepy ass camera crew...three, fist pumping while you are fall down drunk is considered dancing in some parts of the world...and four, you can have a career in television even if your IQ is only in the double digits(and I feel I am being quite generous in assuming all of them have an IQ above 9).

The television is saturated with crap being touted as "real", but none of it is.  Nope, they aren't REALLY repossessing a car from some geeky dumbass dressed up as Harry Potter at some Dungeons and Dragons type festival.  That is "reenacted".  Sorry, that gaggle of snooty Los Angeles bimbos did not just happen to all show up at the same party and decide to get into a catfight.  That is a "scene".  And I am willing to bet that the family being surprised with an extreme makeover of their dilapidated shack was probably aware that those camera crews were there for some reason...ya think?

I am knocking it, yes.  But I will still watch...at least the shows I like.  Not because I wish for that reality being played across the boob tube...I'm intelligent enough to know better.  I understand that tv land just doesn't have any new, fresh ideas.  Nothing to catch the eye of all the mindless minions sitting zombified in front of the telly.  Maybe there will never be another "Facts of Life" or "90210"...and for that, I cry a little every day.  However, I have the kids from Jersey Shore to teach me about the tanning spray and juiceheads.  I can look to my housewives to learn about the most expensive places to buy shoes and how important it is to hang in the right social circles.

And reality tv is also good for making my life seem totally normal and sane...and for that, I am thankful

Pet Peeves.....yep, I got some.

I have pet peeves by the bucketful.  I am owning that.  It may not be a good thing, but it's one of MY things.

We can work on a list of my pet peeves later, number them and everything.  For now, I am just going to gripe about one of them...

I have been corresponding with a woman through email, trying to get some information on a project I want to get going.  When I write an email, I address the person with a 'Hello' or 'Thanks for responding' or whatever is freakin' appropriate for that email.  PLUS, I always sign off, with 'Thanks' or 'I appreciate your help' or something else that a grown-up with manners might choose...and I even manage to tap out all four letters of my name.  Impressive, I know.

As you may have guessed by now, the woman I am emailing back and forth with DOES NOT abide by the same guidelines.  Lazy or rude?  Who the hell knows?!  She doesn't write enough for me to have a chance at figuring it out.  And because the twit is too lazy to give my emails some full on attention and thought, I have to keep writing back to said twit with MORE QUESTIONS!!!

My initial innocent email that should have been taken care of in one response has now been going back and forth for four days, with my lovely, lively actual sentences that have capitals AND punctuation.  And I continue to receive ten word, one line responses. How completely irritating.

So, my pet peeve(obviously) is people who don't respond in kind.  Ya got that?  I don't expect everyone to be as wordy as me.  I can even deal with people abbreviating things, and failing to use all necessary punctuation.  However, if you can clearly see that I am not a neanderthal who uses grunts and throat noises to communicate, why in the hell are you giving me that in response?
  

That all being said, there really isn't much I can do about the way this nitwit conducts herself in email.  I made sure to respond in kind to her last one....

"One more ? do the others come too

thx"

Decipher that, doofus.