Where's Waldo....

Sometimes my life feels like those crazy Where's Waldo pictures. It's all chaos and I am looking for this one particular thing amid a frenzy of activity.

No I didn't die. No I didn't give up on my blog, although it may seem that way. No I didn't forget how to log in and post.

What I did do was follow a goal of mine forever. I took my love of writing and turned it into a job as a freelance writer. The good news is that I am doing something everyday that I am really good at and I make a bit more money than I made before doing something I was only semi good at. The good news is that I can officially say I am a writer.

The bad news is that I am nowhere near writing what I want to write. I write content for web pages, articles about products, articles for online publications, and who knows what else its for. I just write it, I don't ask questions. Often I'm given a set of words and told how long it needs to be and viola I come up with an entire page of information.

It isn't glamorous or exciting, but it is a step in the right direction. However it leaves me wiped out. So I've neglected anything considered fun. Well that's about to change. I've decided to incorporate real life into my life as well.

So watch out world, the Queen is back. And I will be as sarcastic and crazy as ever.

I changed your diapers without bitching and you will do the same for me...

I have a theory. I gave birth to Brat. I changed her diapers. I was spit up on. I was peed on. I was pooed on. I was thrown up on. I held her when she was scared. I made sure she didn't run into traffic. I made sure she was fed. I braved the unknown and baked cookies at Christmas with her. I took her to multitudes of appointments. I sat on the bleachers when she cheered. I was in the audience when she sang in the talent show. I was there. Taking care of her. I will continue to do so until she no longer needs it. Even past the point of her wanting me around.

Turnabout is fair play. When I'm old and I need diapers. When I need spongebaths and my ass wiped and someone to feed me...she damn well better be there. Period.

And she KNOWS this.

We have established that if she's a world famous singer she can hire someone to be home with me while she travels...but I digress..

So today we had duel doctor appointments. Meaning I scheduled Brat and myself back to back. Well there was this lady with her elderly father in the waiting room. He asked to go to the bathroom. She chewed him a new ass. Yelled at the top of her lungs how he didn't need to go. Told him he had just gone on their way there. Screamed that he was like a 'fucking two year old' and to find something to keep himself busy.

Seriously?

This is how you treat the parent who raised you?

I cringed every time her mouth opened. I seriously wanted to knock her down.

So I did what any good mother and homeschool parent would do. I used it as a learning opportunity. I looked at Brat and said:

"When I'm old and need you to help me, if you EVER treat me like that, I will either beat your ass or pay someone else to do it for me"

I think she got the message.

Because I want to guarantee my daughter a life of therapy...

Grumpy is convinced he's on candid camera. Or some secret show where people watch him all day and laugh. Kind of like the cruel and mean version of The Truman Show. He's pretty sure that I ask him to do things just so this fictitious audience can have their laughs for the day. Really it's not a bad idea. Aside from watching hours of him flying pretend planes complete with sound effects, an audience would quite enjoy a day in the life of Grumpy.

But I can't put him on camera. I am pretty sure that if our daily lives were recorded we'd be charged with "causing the insanity of a minor" or something like that. Someone would come to our house. They would see that we really do sort of torture our child in that "We are your parents and we don't care how awful we are" kind of way. She is bound to need years of therapy just to get past her pubescent years.

I was joking the other day about what I would say if I made a list of common phrases heard in our house. It made me realize that maybe we aren't normal. Not that being normal is all its cracked up to be. But still...maybe we could be a little less ...crazy?

Poor Brat. She has to spend at least a small portion of her day trying to convince her dad that she is not a lesbian. It never seems to work for her. In reality it's just funny to see her repeat it over and over. Don't look at me like that. What good are the preteen and teen years if we can't have a little fun.

But it did dawn on me that there are a lot of people in my life I might not want to show up at the house unexpectedly. They might not quite understand our humor. Some may think we were horrible for joking about homosexuality with our 11 year old daughter. To them I would have to say...suck it. Even she giggles about it.

Don't think it's one sided. Brat calls Grumpy a girl all the time. It's just not as funny because he doesn't defend himself. Besides we all know he's a bit feminine.

Can I bum a cigarette.....

So I left off with Nikki on my adventures of the world wide webtv. Man I loved that thing. But what sucked was that I had one. For the whole house. One little webtv and keyboard. Granted Brat was a baby so she didn't need it. But me and Grumpy sharing? Let's put it this way....we don't have a table right now, but there are 3 computers in our house. We DO.NOT.SHARE.

So I ventured out of that newbie chat room for webtv and I discovered a whole new world. I tried going in the local room but man were there a bunch of jackasses there. So I kept exploring. Then late one night I found a nifty little room called Happily Married. What an oxymoron. Seriously.

This group was a crazy bunch of folks. But they were welcoming and friendly. I didn't know when I started there that there were 3 distinct groups. The late night group which is who I first met. The morning group. And the daytime group. Very few people crossed over. You were among one group.

Well my first interaction was the late night group. So that's where I stayed for the most part. I introduced Grumpy to it and he became as attached to this room as I did.

I did crossover though. I became one of "those people". I ventured into various hours of the day.

Looking back I wonder what attracted me to most of those people. They weren't exactly normal. Or sane. Which may be the answer to my question. For a time in my life, I felt I couldn't do without them. Funny to think about now as I talk to very few of them on any kind of basis.

But we had cyber weddings, truth or dare, cybering...though that was part of truth or dare most times....a newsletter that grumpy started and I took over and redid and then it fizzled. I mean it was a whole life that existed in this little black box.

But nothing will ever make me forget that one day. I was out of cigarettes and money wasn't there for more. I was needing one bad. And I was chatting about it. And how bad I needed a cigarette. When this newbie that I didn't even know offered me a cyber cigarette. Well hell if it worked for weddings and divorces why the hell wouldn't it work for smoking. So we started talking.

That was 10 years ago. My daughters whole life time almost. And she is STILL my best friend. We talk daily. We know everything about each other. We've been through separations, divorces, babies, jobs, lack of jobs, good stuff, bad stuff. We've never met. Though I swear we will someday. But if I thought Nikki was a friend....Well that was NOTHING compared to this.

No matter how many times we've moved, no matter who was or wasn't in our lives...it never changed anything. When I lived at my grandmas, we sat up all night on the phone thanks to five dollar calling cards and watched CMT. When I travelled back and forth....we talked the whole way. She's the sole reason I got a headset for my cell phone. When Brat was diagnosed Bipolar it was her that I went to. No matter what it is...I know I can talk to her. Just ask her. Just the other night we discussed the inside of a vagina. Please don't ask.

I'm going to copy and paste what she said when we were discussing this very thing. It says it way better than I ever could.

"imagine, we always have someone somewhere, who weve never even met, but we always worry about one another and keep in touch no matter how crazy life is, through a billion moves and life changes weve been there for eachother, even without ever having met face to face....without the internet, neither of us would be who we are, and a lot of it was because of our friendship, as we walked eachother through the bad spots and rooted the other on through the good spots
in my entire life, Ive never had a friend thats lasted as long as you, and we can talk about anything, without shame or judgement"

That my friends is the truest friendship I've ever known.

And no matter what else happens in life. How we might lose touch for a while. We always find each other. And we always have 89. Aliens. And sooo much more.

Love ya Lynn!

I want your sex....

Remember the songs we grew up to? The stuff that was on the radio all the time. The videos we watched on MTV back when they actually showed videos. We had Madonna's Like a Virgin, George Michael's I want your sex, Samantha Fox with Touch Me and then for the really wild ones There was oooh me so horny.

So explain to me how a generation who embraced sexuality in our every day lives via music, grew up to raise kids who know so very little about their own bodies?? And how did we become so uptight about things that we view a little girl in a halter top or bikini as being "sexual".

I have mentioned before I answer questions by teens. I am serious people, our kids do not know ANYTHING about the good OR bad of sex. They don't know how to avoid being pregnant. They don't know that a kiss or a grope doesn't mean he loves them. They don't know ANYTHING. And its our fault.

And now we are punishing the little kids. Little girls. Innocent. Wouldn't know what provacative means. They can't dance or wear clothes that reveal skin. I'm surprised we don't reinstate the full body swimsuits of the olden days.

Ya see recently a few things have come to my attention. People are quick to make generalizations. I've seen kids who were doing an innocent yet time consuming activity referred to as provocative and sexual. I've seen people say that their parents should lose them. What were they doing you ask? They were dancing. They were also 7. They had no clue how adults perceived their dance moves. And *gasp* their belly buttons were showing.

Seriously?

This is why I have to inform teenagers every day that yes if you stand upside down in the bathtub but didn't use a condom you can still get pregnant.

But that's not what I fear most. I realize these kids are in danger of STD's and early pregnancies. That's a given. But that's not my biggest fear. Because at least I know they will eventually learn that stuff.

What I'm scared of is that we are raising a bunch of kids who are going to be afraid of their own sexuality. Ashamed of their bodies. Remember our parents? Grandparents? How they wouldn't even kiss or hug in front of us? Do we want that life for our kids? Yes there are limits. And it's on us to set them. But make them fair. Don't ruin the lives of these pure innocent kids.

Because self esteem and love of oneself and ones body....those things can not be replaced. And it takes years of therapy to repair them. Trust me, I know.

To DO: Quit making so many lists

I am addicted to lists. Everything I do/plan has to be written out in list form. And I never run out of lists. I'm amazed that I don't organize my sex life into a to do list. It is just a small part of what makes me anal. When we were spring cleaning I had a very detailed list. Each night I'd cross off what we completed and completely rewrite the list for the next day.

It drives grumpy insane.

With homeschooling I've found it comes in handy to be a little obsessive compulsive. It makes my days go smoother when I have a list of assignments for the week already written.

I even make lists when I send Grumpy to the store. Which is like...all the time. That way he can't say he didn't remember something. Although he still does. But now I can come back with "BUt I made a list"

But how do you know when your list making is crossing a line? When it's mother's day and you set your daughter free in the dollar store with cash. And you open your gift and find 2 notepads, 4 pens and a preprinted to-do list.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my gift. Grumpy does not. He sees it as more torture as I plan the daily events of our life.

Poor Grumpy. Brat has started it as well. She's planning a sleepover. She has a notebook with guest list, food lists, game lists, movie lists, lists of what songs to play and on and on. She tells us daily how she's too busy for something because she only has 2 weeks to plan her party.

Grumpy is set for a life of misery. Pretty soon he will have a bathroom schedule.

The tried and true fitness plan

It's hard to believe as I write this that its been almost 10 years since I discovered the internet...10 years...almost my daughter's entire lifetime. And here I sit...hooked as always.

It was a summer day in Wisconsin when I first ventured online. I was of the poor variety, so my first taste test was on a webtv. For those who do not know what that is....feel lucky. It hooks up to your tv and phone line. You pay a monthly fee and you get internet access. Not full fledged computer access. Pages had to webtv friendly. And you could not download anything. There was no hard drive. But oh how I loved that webtv.

I ventured into a webtv for beginners chat room and that started what would ultimately change my life.

In that chat room I met Nikki. I'm using her real name because if for some reason she ever found this blog, I'd love to hear from her.

Nikki was purely awesome. We clicked almost right away and we chatted constantly. Nikki loved to dance and was going through a divorce. Her theme song was Believe by Cher. We created our own infomercial. Yes I'm a dork and I'm about to prove it.In our chatting we truly discovered the use of the acronym LMAO. But it struck us one day....can you REALLY laugh your ass off?

That's the beginning of our informercial. It was called Laugh Your Ass Off with Nikki. We had our speech down pat. What better way to lose weight than to do so laughing??

If it were indeed possible, I would have had the flattest ass in America. Because Nikki truly kept me laughing.

One day I was lucky enough to be traveling through Knoxville, and Nikki happened to live in Knoxville. So we met at a Waffle House. It was my one brief meeting with her. And she was just as awesome in person.

Somehow over the years Nikki and I lost touch. I ventured on to other chat rooms. One that would become a staple in my life for several years. I met other people both online and off. But I will always remember Nikki.

When I look back and picture those early days of internet, I imagine Nikki dancing around her house to Believe while talking to me on the phone.

And hopefully today she is sitting somewhere laughing her ass off.