My Daughter is an artistic prodigy!!!

I've always hoped that one of my children would get my artistic gene, and now one has!  My daughter has begun painting.  I know, I know.  "She is way too young!"  You are thinking to yourself, but it's true!  When I put her down for her nap, the artistic genius inside her awakens and takes over her little body.  While I am completely unaware, thinking she is off in dreamland, masterpieces are being created.  Her canvas:  The walls.  And when that runs out, her crib, blankets, pillow, stuffed rabbit, even her own body is sacrificed to the vision.  Her medium:  Poo.  That's right.  I can't believe how, not only creative, but resourceful my daughter is.  It's handy, it never runs out, and it gives off that special something that paint just can't.  I have to say, when I walk in and see the beauty that she has created all around her, it really does bring a tear to the eye.

FYI:  That's chocolate cookie on her mouth, NOT poo!

Our own little Hobbit

People tell us that Carter looks like Elijah Wood.  Hmm... What do you think?

I was given a lot of advise about dating by numerous people. My parents, young women leaders, friends, even my siblings. Some of their advise included "Don't date before you're 16", "Don't single date until you're 18", "Don't stay out past curfew", "Only date boys with high standards", "Play on the offense" (which meant 'flirt' according to my sister) and other such jewels of knowledge. But NEVER, amongst all the imparting of wisdom by my elders, did anyone ever advise me NOT to wear a see-through shirt when around black lights. That little tidbit of information could have come in very handy as I prepared to go on my 3rd date with Ryan. Featured to the left is a picture of us posing in our 70s attire as we prepared to go disco skating. Look very closely at the shirt adorning my body. Look VERY closely. It seems completely non-transparent. Surprisingly enough, however, it becomes extremely transparent when under black lights. Of course I didn't notice this magical change as I was skating away to Abba songs, but Ryan sure did. I think his exact words were, "Um Tina, every time you skate under one of those black lights, your bra lights up." That was a proud moment in my life and I reflect upon it with much fondness and not with any embarrassment whatsoever.

BSA

B.S.A.

I just joined a new support group.  Body Spasmers annonymous, or B.S.A. (Not to be confused with Boy Scouts of America)  It took me a long time to realize I had a problem.  I lived in that dark world of denial for far too long.  But now, I walk in the

sun.  And more importantly, I walk in the sun without body spasming. 

 (Left and Right pictures:  Body Spasming at its worst!)  

This post is dedicated to all those out there who don't realize that they could be suffering from Body Spasmer Syndrome.  Recent studies have shown that as many as 78% of the population could be suffering from BSS (sometimes just shortened to BS), and that only .000000000001% recognize and are treated for this disabling condition.  If you have any or all of the listed symptoms, please ask your doctor about BS today.

*Sudden spontaneous posing of body 

*Uncontrolled "strut" walking

*Uncontrolled hip swaying

and of course

*Flu like symptoms

(these symptoms may or may not worsen in the vicinity of a camera.)

Also, there is a wonderful support group for those who suffer from BS called BSA.  So far, I am the only member, but I feel certain that this post will change all that as it reaches MILLIONS across the world, beaconing them to come!  Come and soak up the sun with me it the sunny, sun filled, sun-shiny sunlight of finally getting help for BS.

*FYI, spasming IS a word!

*Oh yeah, so is spasmer

Ninja Parade

I can't believe they caught me!  I was trying to be so careful too!

Genetic testing is really quite simple when you think about it.  Just a quick swab of the cheek, run it through a machine and presto!  However, my husband came up with a much simpler way to prove parenthood.  Like most inspired ideas, this one came to him while sleeping.  Let us travel now to the land of Ryan's dreams.  Doolalaloo, Doolalaloo, Doolalaloo. (That's the sound it makes when you travel into someone's subconscious.)

The setting:  Well Dreamland of course, SILLY!

The plot: Ryan's three children have been turned back into babies.

The conflict:  Not only have they been turned back into babies, but they look exactly the same as about 100 babies around them.  How to tell which are his?

Now this may seem like an impossible situation.  Hundreds of babies that all look the same!  What ever is to be done?  Have no fear, Ryan's brain is here!  He came up with a solution that involves cutting edge technology.

The solution:  It's quite simple; just follow these three easy steps.

1. Shrink the babies down to the size of a lima bean.  

2. Place in either nostril.

3. Watch to see if baby sprouts out your nose.  If it sprouts, congratulations!  You're the parent.  If not, don't loose hope!  Just try another.

I think this process is brilliant and deserves scientific exploration.  If we could introduce this concept to the world and make it available to the public, the benefits would be immeasurable. No more uncomfortable cotton swabs.  No more waiting around for some machine!  No more having to take a doctor's word for it!  Now you can see the IMMEDIATE results for yourself!

Of course research isn't free.  Funding for a project of this magnitude is not easy to obtain.  But you can help!  Just send cash, check, money order, precious stones, family heirlooms to:

BabySprouts, inc.

743 n frankenstein road

65436

My son tried to bribe me to NOT take him to the doctor today.  I have to say it was quite tempting... he did offer me, not one, but TWO quarters.  Just think of all the glamourous things I could have bought!  

Grandma Sims died.  People tell me how sorry they are, but truth be told, when I found out my heart gave a little leap of joy.  That may seem so unfeeling, but here's why:

My grandma lost her husband and two year old baby girl, Loraine, in the same devastating car crash.  She has also suffered from Alzheimers disease for the past 15 years.  Towards the end, she kept trying to find Loraine and Mac.  She would say;  "I can't find Loriane!  I think something happened to her."  Or;  "I don't know where Mac is... I think he might be dead."

It was as though she had to relive that pain over and over again.  

When I received news of her passing, all I could think was,  "Finally!  Finally after all these years she gets to see them again.  To feel the strength and security of her husbands arm around her, to hear the delicate laughter of her child.  To tell them how much she has missed them and how many years her heart ached for them."

I can't imagine loosing either my husband or my child, and I can't imagine having to wait to live out my life before I was able to be with them again.

I am so happy for my grandma!

On a lighter note, like I mentioned before, Grandma suffered from alzheimers and I must say she did some very silly things. 

Grandma had 5 children, 3 sons and 2 daughters.  Bill, her oldest, moved in with her when her alzheimers was just beginning to manifest itself.  Whenever she couldn't find something (something that she hadn't had for 50 years) she would blame Bill.  The worse her condition became, the more poor Bill got accused of evil doings.  Even after he moved out, Bill was still the culprit for missing items.  Grandma had bars put on all her windows, because she thought Bill would sneak into her house at night as steal various treasures.  Bill had become, in her mind, the cause of all her ails.  Grandma had to be put into an assisted living facility because she was no longer able to take care of her own needs.  My dad, Don, was the one given the task of taking her there.  He was worried about his assignment, knowing that my grandma's reaction was not going to be pleasant.  I told him, "Don't worry Dad, she'll forget it was you that took her there anyway and just blame Bill."  Sure enough, about a week after they had moved her into the facility, she said to my parents as they were visiting her, "That darn Bill! He brought me here and left me!  I can't believe he would do such a thing!"

My grandma was always trying to escape her new home.  She would move from door to door rattling the handles and trying the locks.  One day she said to one of the workers, "How do you get out of this place?"  The worker kindly told her there was no way out.  "Well, what do you do if there's a fire?"  She asked disgustedly.  "Don't worry Brenna, if there's a fire we'll get everyone out safely."  My grandma perked up at this and said.  "Ah!  So there is a way to get out.  All I have to do is start this place on fire!"

I love you Grandma.  Thank you for your amazing life.  For your courage in raising 4 children alone.  For your strength of spirit.  For your spunk.  For you candy dishes and gum.  And most of all for your sense of humor, laughter and funny stories.

The Booby Trap 6000

Newly updated from the Booby Trap 3000

The same great broom, but now with the bonus pan lid feature.

 

"I never thought I could part with my Booby Trap 3000, but when I saw the Booby Trap 6000 

with bonus pan lid, I just couldn't believe my eyes!

Goodbye Booby Trap 3000... HELLO Booby Trap 6000!" 

-Suzy Lemonjello, CA

"I never thought they could perfect something that was already perfect, but the Booby

Trap Co. have outdone themselves again!"

- Honores Kobelco, FL

"I bought one for my mother, sister and all my girlfriends.  They make

the perfect gift!

-Princess Consuella, Consuella Isl. 

"Thank you Booby Trap 6000!"

- Eldin Giffroy, Down Under

Suggested retail price:  $350

Now yours for only $299.99

Call now!

Don't be the only chump on your block without the 

Booby Trap 6000 with bonus pan lid.  

I've trained in martial arts for over 10 years, we own a dog and a gun, yet I still set this up when Ryan is gone over-night.  I precariously balance it against the door leading to the basement, so that if anyone opens that door... BANG, CRASH!  Yes, I am quite inventive.  Leave it to the broom and pan lid to save me when all else fails!

The big poo poo that goes to work

I never thought of bodily functions as having gender.

Matthew, age 3: "Mommy, pee pee is a girl and poo poo is a boy."
Mom: "really!"
Matthew: "You are a big pee pee, Carter is a little poo poo, I am a little poo poo and daddy is the big poo poo that goes to work!"

The other night at taekwondo I kicked someone in the face causing blood to be spilt.  I hate it when that happens.

Triple D sized bras are amazing. For not only can they support the largest of breasts, but they can also be used as a great hiding place. I was at Wal-mart with my kids last night. Always a bad idea. My eight year old son, being disgruntled by the fact that I was against him spitting on his younger brother, hanging on the cart like a monkey and running through the isles, yelling at the top of his lungs like a barbarian, stormed off around the corner in disgust. To further show his displeasure he kicked one of his new shoes into the air. Naturally, he didn’t follow the path of the flying shoe with his eyes, and came back to me with one shoe missing. He happened to be standing by the ladies underwear section when his shoe took flight, so that is where our search commenced. I never thought I’d have my son look through women’s underwear, but there we were peering through boxes of panties, hung bras, and crawling on our bellies to peek under isles. We probably looked like a bunch of perverts. Soon, no less that 5 employees had joined our search party, but to no avail. The shoe could not be found. (I would just like to add that these shoes were pretty expensive and he’d only had them since Christmas.)
My daughter did not find this game amusing, and was letting her vocals ring out at a very specific frequency that penetrates the head and melts the brain. I think I pulled more than a few hairs out in exasperation. Finally after a FULL HOUR of searching, the elusive black shoe was found, practically invisible, nestled snuggly inside the cup of a triple D black bra. Being a woman with a smaller chest size, I was completely clueless to the amount that such a bra could contain… and conceal. I have to say I am amazed. Irritated, frustrated and now slightly more bald, but amazed all the same.

Why She-ra is better than Wonder Woman:

She-ra                    

*Has a sword

*related to He-man 

*Name shorter and easier to say

*more gold!!!

*country neutral

*can speak telepathically with animals

*no invisible gimmicks-obviously doesn't need them! 

*less prone to wedgies

*hair poofier

Wonder Woman

*only has a flimsy piece of rope

*not related to ANYONE cool

*name a tongue twister

*Less gold!!!

*can only fight for the USA

*only has animal empathy- NO telepathic abilities

*relies on her invisible plane- which you can still see her head by the way!

*wedgies galore!

*could use a little more back-combing

      

Salad tongs. What a glorious thing.
Created one steamy night in which Mr. Fork crept secretly over to the forbidden spoon tray to have a rendezvous with Miss Spoon.
Not one, but two offspring were the result. Siamese twins conjoined at the hip. Rounded like a spoon, yet forked on the end, they are the perfect blend of their parents.
The Doctors said to cast them aside. Their deformity would never allow them to be accepted into society, being neither spoon nor fork. They couldn't have been more wrong, for these two humble sporks exceeded all expectations by becoming something that no other could. The salad tongs.
I went to my sister's house for a barbecue. Her artistic salad waited for the first hungry person to come and try its delights. As I made my way towards it, it seemed to ruffle its lettuce leaves proudly like a peacock on display. I stopped suddenly all color draining from my face as I looked in horror at her so called “salad”. Two spoons lay in the salad, tarnishing it's beauty, much like a large zit on a model's nose.
“Where are the salad tongs?” I managed to squeak out, my voice betraying my inner turmoil.
My sister only shrugged as if to say, “Don't know, don't care.”
I gripped a nearby chair for support as the room lurched beneath my feet. How could my own sister, my own flesh and blood be so uncaring, so unfeeling, so DEAD inside.
You may be asking yourself, “What do salad tongs have to do with anything?”
Well, the answer is:
I would like to take those salad tongs and RIP MY BACK OUT!!!!

I wrote that about 6 months prior to my disk replacement surgery. Now, I am the BIONIC WOMAN. All should fear me.