May 30, 2012

Power Struggles: What Are The Odds I'll Make It Out Alive?

The daughter, young lass, age 7, and I are having a bit of a power struggle.  I, having been a young lass and blossoming tween once upon a time, know that this is only the beginning.  I can't blame the kid; there has been a lot of change in her life the past few years/months/weeks with divorce, moving, and her Dad moving out of state.  I know there will be outbursts, a little rage, tears, testing boundaries, etc.  But as of late, I might be at the end of my rope.
See what I mean?  I think she's flashing some sort of secret
gang sign at me.

 I can tough it out, call me what you want kid, but I won't tolerate brats.  Do I have sympathy?  Yes, we can discuss how you feel; but the whole lashing out thing doesn't work well for me.  Maybe I'm too strict, but I give lots of hugs, love and reassurance; so I don't think I'm neglecting any child around here.  

I will say the emotional beat down the kid can give takes a toll after a while.  Kind of like when people say, "Haha, Cari, you're crazy" after so many times, and then you think, I crazy?  So your kid hits you with a verbal attack which you think you shrug off, only to later think, "am I really a meanie-head?”

No matter how many years you've had in the parenting trenches, you will never be prepared to hear the following phrases:

"I hate you."

"I wish you weren't my Mom."

"You are the worst Mom in the world."

Need I continue?  No.  If you haven't heard these yet, they are on the way.  Things looked so promising when I brought her home from the hospital.  Of course I apply my myriad of disciplinary techniques:

Ignore it and hope it goes away.

You know, a little, "lalalalalala, I can't hear you" in my head.  But of course this only works for so long because the children are highly skilled at button pressing and know it will only take 5.8 seconds before I crack OR they will hit a sibling to regain your attention.  That'll do it.

The Jedi Mind Trick

Child: I hate you.

Me: Well, I LOOOOVVVVE you.

Child: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

Me: Okay, but I still love you.

Two outcomes here: they begin to laugh hysterically, or they have already passed over to the dark side in which case you've really just pissed them off even more, furthering a lifelong battle of wills to the death.


We have a no sass talking policy around this house.  Not everything written in the policies and procedures manual is obeyed by the children.  I really need to talk to the manager about that.  This means I need to crack the whip!  That's right, get all big and puffy and yell, or uh, give them a stern talking to, and take away some privileges.

Really at the end of the night, there was no clear winner and we hugged it out.  I think this is always going to be a tough thing for me, being the only parent, finding the balance between disciplinarian and nurturer.  

At this point in the post, I shall retire; as I am weary and will probably partake in some sort of adult beverage...but please leave some advice below, how do you deal with the power struggles?

May 29, 2012

I Might Need Bail Money...

I have some news.  Some of you might be excited, others of you might curse me and say things like:

"there goes the neighborhood"
"I thought she was sweet"
"Oh, that."

Just kidding about the last one, not pregnant.  But I did give birth to a brand new blog! I know, I know, brilliant segue.  It's nothing really, only the shiniest, coolest, snarkiest Bitchery Triad Blog ever!

We {the triad and I}wrote a post, over there on the blog, it's very funny, head on over to get your fill while Marjorie gets her swear on.

Now skedaddle and go check out what we look like as smokin' hot cartoons.

May 22, 2012

June Cleaver Would Not Even Go Here! #Dogtopus

I would consider myself to be crafty.  I have craft supplies and what not, I'll do a little glitter and glue with the offspring.  But there comes point where I draw the line.  Food.  Whatever you do on your own time is fine; I however will not be fashioning the Eiffle Tower out of Ramen noodles for my children.  I suppose I don't entirely see the point.  Let's talk about this, okay I'll talk you listen, with some photos for your viewing pleasure of course.

Mr. Owl, how many licks does it  take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie pop?
{Kicking it old school, if you don't understand the statement above, you might want to go back to your Bieber}

I think I could probably pull off Mr. Owl up there. It doesn't require to many ingredients, glue or some fancy tool or edible food coloring.  Some proponents of "food art" may argue, oh my kids are picky eaters, this will help.  Really?  I mean does that work?  I'm giving my kids the benefit of the doubt and saying they are smarter than that.  They aren't picky eaters, but they don't like cucumbers; if I served up Mr. Owl complete with cucumber tree, it would go down like this:

Me:  Why didn't you eat your tree, honey?

Kid:  That's not a tree, it's cucumbers and they are gross.

And that is like half a cuke there.  I'd rather hide them in oh, a salad.  That's right, I've fooled them with salad people.

Don't look at me like that.

                                                                       Source: via Laura on Pinterest

Bert and Ernie.  Aren't they scary enough in real life?  The unibrow?  The huge cherry nose?  If I were a kid, this would scar me for life.  Maybe it's me and I don't like my food starring back at me, with the crazy eye no less.  And then there is always the chance your kid won't recognize what you've made.  Buzz kill right there.  Why put yourself through that?

Panda Express?

                                                                    Source: via Sydney on Pinterest

Naturally, I did not delve into the ingredient breakdown of "food" pictured above.  But I suspect this is rice.  A heck of a lot of rice.  Who wants to eat a huge glob of rice like that?  No avacado, crab, or cucumber to be found!  A rice ball is a rice ball no matter how panda-ish it may look.  Some of this "cute food" is really just a waste and downright unappatizing.  Think of all the remnants you throw away just to make the nose or hair on something.  It doesn't seem green if you ask me.  So save the Pandas!

Have Some Time To kill?

                               Source: via Tina on Pinterest
Source: via VURRUKKULLUK on Pinterest 

This is what I like to call, "Too much time on your hands".  I don't think I could even eat that because of the sheer enormitiy of time this must have taken.  Sure it's fun!  The kids will LOVE it!  Maybe, but I'm not eating Brocclapoodle.  Also, I worry about the refridgeration time while you were widdling away at a bean stalk.  That's pretty amazing.  Hope you got an "A" at the culinary institute.

Stop It.

                                                                     Source: via maryanne on Pinterest

The yoda shaped guacamole was worse, trust me.  I see that you've labeled that "cheese ball".  I wouldn't eat it.  I don't like black licorice with my cheese.  Stop this.


Please dear friends, why?  Why can't we just eat hot dogs on a bun like God intended?  Why the dogtopus?  This isn't the first appearance Dogtopus has made on this blog...please see here.  I'm not just asking, or threatening anymore; I'm begging.  Stop the madness, really that platter of dogtopuses doesn't deserve 7909 re-pins on Pinterest, it's just gross.

And for the record, the plural form of octopus  is octopuses.  Thought it was octopi didn't you?  So did I.

Now come clean.  Have you made food art?  Why? And what did you make? Will you stop?

May 14, 2012

Where Do You Fall On The Crazy Scale?

More often than not lately, I’ve been finding my self saying, “What’s wrong with people?  Have they no common sense?”  I have come to the conclusion that indeed common sense is a thing of yesteryear and idiocy is on the rise.  Let’s just take these stories from the past week:  The Tanorexic Mom puts 5 year-old in tanning bed {allegedly, she did} or man ties himself to a tree in hopes of “a romantic interlude”.  Certainly we all do stupid things, but I don’t think 90% of the population has mental illness either.  I think nobody cares anymore.  People are so PC sometimes they don’t want to say, “You are a moron”.  I am not one of those people.  Trust me, if I see you tied your naked self to a tree, I will point out that you are stupid, and then I would call the authorities. But now Tanorexic Mom has her own action figure?  We as a society sensationalize stupid crazy-ass people.  In my mind this only makes crazy people seem funny and we laugh it off...but that's just my common sense talking. 

So I’ve decided just so we’d all be on the same page, that there should be some sort of scale, if you will to determine crazy.  Have you gone too far?  Let me help you.

Level 1: Little Cray or You So Crazy

Level one is harmless stupidity, little nuts; but often times all in the name of fun.  Often level one involves alcohol.  You might profess your undying words of affection or harmless stalkerdom to someone you have a crush on.  You might talk about your sex life to strangers.  You might drunk text inappropriate things, like, “I love you and/or miss you” to your middle school crush, or post a not so attractive photo on Facebook.

Stupid practical jokes that backfire always land you in Level 1.  Level one can also be caused by PMS or PMDD.  Hormonal imbalance will cause people to act a fool sometimes or verbally lash out.  Most but not all weathermen live in level one as well.  Level one often times only embarrasses you, usually minimal damage is done and friendships and relationships can be repaired, but people will say, “Yeah, she’s a little Cray” when they are talking about you behind your back.

Level 2: The Neighborhood Crazy Person

Everyone has a person in their neighborhood that is “off”.  Might be you.  Could be you if you:  yell at kids to get off your lawn, set up a hidden camera to catch the dog pooping on your lawn, consider your lawn to be a family member, care more about grooming your lawn than yourself, mow your lawn everyday so you have the “just mowed look”, mumble to yourself as you manicure your yard, or like my neighbor; sweep your garage daily and wash the tires of your car with the hose before you pull your car into the garage.  Or like my other neighbor who parked his lawn chair in his driveway and drank beer shirtless showing of his huge bypass scar for hours.  Watched or neighborhood watch?  One never knows, but I didn’t dare walk on his lawn.  Also, for the record, I live in a sweet neighborhood...jealous?

Level 3:  He/She Ain’t Right

I believe when you’re walking the line of level 3, you’ve officially crossed over from moron to crazy.  Here common sense is gone, because you are officially crazy; or need to seek professional help.  Level 3 involves people, usually exes or stalker types who won't take no for an answer, lashing out at you via text message for no good reason and calling you names.  Somehow they believe that calling you an effing bleep will make you run back into their arms or make you miraculously 'wake up' and find them irresistible.  Ain’t right people will contradict themselves in one sentence.  Not that I’d know, but I know.  Making you say, “Did he just say what I thought he said?" and question if indeed you did used to torture cats as a child or if you were just playing.  I think level 3’s often walk the snap line.  You just don’t know if they will snap or if they are crazy. 
                                                                            Source: Uploaded by user via Cari on Pinterest

Level 4:  Change Your Address and Tell Them You’ve Moved

This would be a clear indicator of crazy from the start.  For example, a guy takes you to Long John Silvers for a first date and then says how he loves to rub pregnant bellies.  {True story, ask Marjorie, but Don’t Call Her Marge}.  I advise hiding and maybe even garnering a weapon. 

I wouldn’t play around with people in level 4.  They aren’t scared of repercussions.  I also think that people that sing loudly {not hum} to themselves in public are level 4’s.  I'm all for singing, but I'm talking about head turning singing like nobody hears you.  If you are doing something that doesn’t look right to the outside world, and you don’t know it….crazy.

Level 5: Red Alert! RUN!

Level 5’s are always news makers.  I am lucky to report that I have had no immediate contact with a person residing in level 5.  Level 5ers will light up cigarettes around flammable material, get plastic surgeries to resemble fictional creatures or real creatures like cats and lizards, they will put others in harms way and often be found naked.  A person on level 5 usually has one or more crazy mug shot photo as well.  Level 5's are an easy read.  I advise not even confronting a level 5, and just running.

Nick Nolte mugshot
Exhibit A: Crazy Nick Nolte

I’m always telling my friend, Christina,  when we get whooped up about something and I decide to keep my mouth shut instead of speak out it is for this reason:  I don’t mess with crazy people.  You will never convince them they are wrong OR crazy, so I don’t go there.

I’m not sure where I fall in the crazy scale, one or even two one any given day. How about you, have you breached any of the levels or know someone that has?  What about common sense?  Is it teachable or forgotten?

Disclaimer:  If you have a mugshot, please submit.

May 06, 2012

Reflections: Am I A Writer Or A Blogger?

Post 26 times in 30 days you say?  Yes, I am that crazy person,{we crazy people roll in packs of roughly 1900 people or so} and yes I did post 27 times in 30 days.  Not at all well.  Not at all entertaining.  But this blog has never really been about appealing to the masses, to be frank; it's all about me and what goes through my crazy brain.  The A-Z Challenge didn't frighten me in the least.  It wouldn't be the first time I've compromised the integrity of this blog with half-assed-ness.  I can pretty much write about anything; not often am I at a loss for ideas.  Never said they were good ideas, but I digress.  It's an exercise in stamina and discovery.  The scariest part of the Challenge for me was the time management.

They  {"they" of course being Google} says it takes 21 days to form a new habit.  So after 26 days of consecutive posts I thought I might find some semblance of a 'groove' for writing time.  I desperately needed to find some balance between my work, my family, social media and my blog.  Blog and social media are clumped together, which in turn is detrimental to my writing.  But my thought process concerning the challenge is that I would make a habit of writing at the same time everyday and boom, new habit.  Not so much.

I was a hot mess.  I was blogging in the morning, noon, night and WAAAY too late at night.  It was so erratic it was alarming.  The unpredictability never ceased and here I am, same place, same blog, what still feels like no time to write; still searching for balance.  The older, wiser and more beautiful I get, I believe life can never be balanced; it will always teeter too far in one direction or another.  But if we can help ourselves just balance enough from falling and still be able to see the other side, therein lies the key.

Naturally I did learn a little something, I can write.  It won't always be Pulitzer material, or funny, or even intelligible; but I can sit down and form words into sentences and write when I need to.  I don't have to lean on the excuse, "I can only write when I'm feeling creative".  When you don't have the option to write whether you feel creative or not, you will.  And that friends, is what makes you a writer instead of a blogger.

Oh that was your glittery-angels-singing-from-the-heavens-moment, by the way.  Okay my moment.

Thanks to the A-Z Challenge, all the new friends and followers, all the lovely blogs I read, everyone who read and supported my journey and my smokin' hot A-Z Challenge posse!  I AM still alive!

So friends, are you a writer or a blogger?  Is there a difference?

Just in case you stopped following me last month OR are remotely interested here's a quick run-down of the fan faves of the challenge:

Most pageviews #1: "Z": To "I Wish I Didn't Have Asperger's"
Most pageviews #2: "O": Oh My Gosh, I'm Giving Birth!
Most comments: "A": And So It Begins
Most Re-Tweets: "M": Ode To the Mullet
Most emails: "E": Everything Will Be Okay
Most Facebook shares: "K": Kiss My Grits and Bless Your Heart (really?)
My favorite: I think y'all got it right up there, but I did love this one "F": Finish It