Songs that disturb me now that I have really listened to their lyrics…

1. The song, “If You Like Pina Coladas” by Jimmy Buffett. Have you really LISTENED to this song? I mean, apart from the chorus?? I never had. I’d always just sing along when I heard it. Because really, who DOESN’T like pina coladas? Or getting caught in the rain? Well, as long as it’s a warm rain. And I have an umbrella.

This song is basically about this guy that is sick of his girlfriend and decides to answer a personal ad. Oh, and he just happens to be looking at the paper while he’s in BED with his girlfriend. But whatever, right?!

So he answers the ad of the girl who likes pina coladas and rainstorms. Oh, and she hates yoga, too. AND only expects the man she hooks up with to have half a brain. Which CLEARLY… this guy fits the bill.

He goes to meet the girl so they can ‘make love on the dunes at midnight’, and discovers that it is his girlfriend that took out the ad. They see each other at the bar, and… get this… they LAUGH about the whole thing.

Because isn’t that exactly what *you’d* do in that scenario?





2. “Don’t You Want Me?” by The Human League.

I think this song should be considered the ‘Anthem of Stalkers’.

You know, like the line… “But don't forget it's me who put you where you are now
And I can put you back down too”

And the chorus? That super catchy chorus? Why don’t you want me baby? Oh, maybe it’s because I’m a CRAZY-@$$ ex-boyfriend?? Who threatens in the oh-so-catchy chorus…

That his ex-love who has changed her mind “had better change it back or we will both be sorry!”

Creepy…

So, friends, tell me… any songs out there that are super-creepin’ you out?

Just when you thought it was safe to go back...

Having barely caught my breath after yesterday's brush with demon dolls, you will understand why I was reticent to return to my children's bedrooms to gather up dirty laundry. (Welcome to the glamorous life of a housewife, BTW)

I asked Libby yesterday why she'd turned the dolls heads, and she glanced at me, laughed evilly, and said, "But Mommy... I haven't touched them all weekend." Okay, not really. But wouldn't that make for a good re-make of 'Chucky'?? (Shudder)

In fact, the girls go on kicks where they love to play together with their dolls, and will have everything all set up, and will play for days on end. Having been a real 'doll-girl' when I was growing up, it warms my heart to see the two of them play with and dress their dolls. And I admit, sometimes they tell their dolls that they need to play nicely with their sister dolls, and to stop yelling at their sister dolls.

And sometimes they even have to put their dolls on the 'Naughty Spot'. But I'm okay with that. ;)

But I still wasn't prepared to be greeted as such, when I went into Josie's room...













Once again, I *did* jump. And for lack of gum, I actually said, "Oh, %#*@!" Now this was one of my dolls from childhood, and if you can't tell in the picture, he's HUGE. He's about the size of a 4 or 5 month old baby, and he was just standing in his little crib... waiting to be picked up, I guess.

Or just checking out all of the Justin Beiber posters on the walls of her room. (Alas, my ten year old is in that typical 'tween' phase... half the time she is a little girl, playing dolls with her sister. The other half, she is a surly teen. *sigh)

Thank heavens that Davis's room only has Lego creations to deal with. Well... Lego creations and utter filth and destruction.

Oh, and in his closet...


















EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!


Okay, okay....breeeeathe.........breeeeeathe......

I know what you're thinking: "Relax, Staci! It's just Santa Claus! A sweet little leftover from Christmas that hasn't been put away yet! It's Santa!! What could be scary about Santa?? Santa is a jolly old elf. It's just Santa... shh...shhh..."



Okay, it's not the fact that there is a Santa in his closet. It was a 'festive gift' for his room. Some kids have trees. Davis got a two foot tall Santa.

Santa does NOT bother me. Its his inexplicable garb that I find disturbing...




"Santa? Is that you? Are you playing football now? What's with the baseball cap? And the hiking boots? What are you carrying in that basketball bag??!

Um... and you might want to re-think the sweater and the cuffed blue jeans."

Schizophrenic Santa.





I think I'm going to put Phil in charge of the laundry from now on.

Because I think you, too, deserve to be freaked out on this beautiful Monday morning.

I would never say that I don't like being home by myself. Ever.

It's just that sometimes, after a busy weekend where my house has felt like Grand Central Station... well, Monday rolls around and the house is just... quiet.

Sometimes a little too quiet. Quiet enough that I can find myself listening for odd noises, steering clear of the closet under our stairway, and occasionally getting freaked the hell out.






Delivering laundry to Libby's room this morning, I opened her door and found...

















These dolls. Looking. Right. At. Me.





With their heads turned and everything. Like they'd been anticipating my arrival. FREAKY!! I'm not too proud to admit that I jumped a little. And maybe I swallowed my gum.



I decided I must get photographic evidence, so you could tell me that I'm not a complete headcase. What was my kid thinking? Did she turn their heads like that so they could watch her sleep??! Disturbing.

So I ran downstairs to get the camera (making sure I left her bedroom door OPEN!), and on my way back upstairs, all I could think was...





"If their heads are turned forward when I walk back in... we're SO going to have to put this damn house on the market."

Just sayin...

Do y'all remember??

Remember back when I had that blog? And I'd post stuff?


And sometimes it was funny??



And y'all would comment?



Remember??




Ah, good times. Good times. ;)

Three for Thursday. Otherwise known as ‘Cranky much?’

1. Posted this on my Facebook status, but it bears repeating, due to its timeliness. And, of course, it’s an honorable mention in my weekly ‘Wow, I did NOT know that’ awards.

I got an email from the H.E.B. Rediclinic which stated, in part: Recent reports have indicated that pollen levels are at an all time high. Experts predict an "unpleasant few weeks ahead" for those whom suffer from cedar allergies.

Ummmm… no sh*t, Sherlock. Welcome to my life.



2. We came off of the holiday season, and jumped headfirst into January with projects, projects, projects! If you didn’t have the chance to see my… er… I mean Josie’s Spanish mission project, well let me just say… it was a thing of true beauty, complete with a presidio, a well, and teeny tiny plastic soldiers dressed as missionaries. We made an A+.

Now onward and upward… Pinewood Derby, the Spelling Bee, and twirling competitions, just to name a few. Damn… I’m ready for spring break, please.

3. Lost 5 pounds this week on WW. (So... yay, me!) Which is all great and everything, except that the annoyingly perky leader in the meeting announces it and makes you stand up in front of everyone and tell the ‘secret of your success for the week’.

And then everyone claps. Now, I don’t mind people giving me kudos for a job well done… but I don’t need the courtesy clap just because I managed to keep my butt out of the Chick-fil-a drive-thru for an entire week. Plus… it is incredibly tempting to say something along the lines of… “Well, Jenny, THIS week I decided to forgo food altogether, and see how it would work getting all my nourishment from Diet Coke, cigarettes, and Grey Goose.”

But I’m pretty sure that might get me banned from the meetings.






(*it has since been pointed out to me that the crankiness might be attributed less to the cedar fever, and more to the cutting out of the sugar. Am willing to concede that possibility.)

And speaking of resolutions...

Perhaps I should have made a New Year's resolution to NOT yell at the girl working at the pretzel place in the mall.

But seriously? She was an idiot. I’m sorry to say that, ESPECIALLY after my post about how important it was that we treat all people with respect, and allow them to have a little dignity when they are doing their job. ESPECIALLY when they are serving your food. Because of the ‘spit factor’, and everything?

That was before I took my two youngest children to the mall after school to run an errand. They wanted a snack. They were peckish (I do so love that word.) What’s a mom to do when it’s nary an hour before dinner, and we still have to hit Bath & Body Works for the antibacterial soap sale??? (I’m THROUGH with sickies. We stocked up.)

It’s soft pretzel time! They both wanted the cinnamon sugar pretzels, so I got them the cup of pretzel sticks. Six, yummy soft pretzel sticks for two kids… a good compromise. Enough for a snack, but not enough to spoil their dinner.

I paid for them, and took out three to put on a napkin for Libby. I pulled out the other three for Davis… and they were completely smashed and stuck together. They were welded together in a cinnamony-sugary-smash-squishery mass. (oh, I’m a soft pretzel poet.)

I politely asked the girl working behind the counter… “I’m sorry, but can I get three more? These are all smooshed.” (And yes, I did say ‘smooshed’.)

So she took them from me…


and laid them on the countertop…







and then used her fingers and her pretzel-grabbin’ tongs to rip and pry apart the cinnamony-sugary-smash-squishery mass.





And then she put the ripped, mangled pieces back in the cup… and HANDED. IT. TO. ME.




Oh, damn.

And with 4 people in line behind me, and seeing my boy’s face looking at his shredded snack… well, I became *that* customer. The crazy, pretzel-cup-waving, loony-toon, demanding unsmashed, unmolested pretzel sticks. I admit it wasn’t my proudest moment.

Both kids were in awe, though, and later recounted the story to their sister… and their dad… and each other. Over and over. And they’ve even added their own versions.

So if Libby tells you the story of the time Momma went all ape-sh*t at the pretzel place, she TOTALLY added the part about me hitting the lady with my bag of antibacterial gels. I absolutely didn’t.

Happy 2011... Is that 'twenty-eleven' or 'two thousand eleven'?

Whew... I'm back. A brand new year, all clean and straight out of its hermetic seal. Still lily-white and pristine, and abundant with promises of good things, fun times, and fresh starts.

Gag. I could give Hallmark a run for their money.

I was READY for 2011. And not just because the last week of 2010 had me looking like the beginning of a Nyquil commercial, what with all that sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head and fever. (Oh, and by the way, I find it interesting that when you go to search the tagline for Nyquil on your Google Search engine and you type in "Nyquil Ad", the number one links are all for "Nyquil Addiction". Just sayin'.)

Anyway, a new year means new resolutions. And resolutions, I made!

Resolution #1: Make some resolutions. (It took me awhile to get going. what can I say?)

Resolution #2: Spend NO MORE than 15 minutes daily on Facebook or other frivolous websites. And when I say 'frivolous', I don't mean this one. This one is well worth the time spent going back and re-reading my posts. In fact, I think that should be one of YOUR resolutions.
I'm talking about 'Lamebook', 'Awkward Family Photos', 'Regretsy' and 'Garfield Minus Garfield'. (you KNOW you're going to go check some of those out, aren't you? Just considered yourself warned ;) Anyway... I have no self-control, and I find myself reading "just one more page...", and I get stuck in the quagmire that is colloquially known as 'The Net'. (Coincidence? I think not.)

Resolution #3: Channel my inner Jennifer Hudson. And if you've heard me sing, you know I'm not planning on auditioning for American Idol. I'm talking 'bout Weight Watchers, friends. Been there, done that, had it work well after pregnancy #1. And pregnancy #2. So now it's time to get it in gear and lose the leftover pounds from pregnancy #3. (And if you happen to feel like mentioning that the result of pregnancy #3 is now 6 years old... well, just don't. Because so help me, I will smack you.)

I won't bore you with the rest (yes! There are more!) I have them all written down, and I hope to make this a year of 'tweaks' (No, not talking about a Nyquil addiction anymore). I just mean... basically I'm a happy, contented person. For the most part, I feel unbelievably blessed and I really love my life (I know... gag), but there are, of course, areas that need 'tweaking'. No major overhaul, just some freshening up. Little changes in a couple of different arenas. Some reminders to myself that I'm worth taking care of, and that there are so many things that I want to do in this year of the big "4-0" that involve spending more time with my husband, enjoying my kids even more, and not stressing about the scratched, dinged up kitchen table or the patches of dead grass in the backyard.


What about you? Tell me one of your resolutions...