I'm a Bitch, I'm a Lover, I'm a Child, I'm a Mother...

Today on www.Jennsylvania.com my fav author Jen Lancaster posted about her recent experience on her book tour in talking to drivers. She asked which celebs were nice and which were big pains in the arse. She said, "And I swear I'm not making this up, but want to guess who's universally hated? Yep, that's night. Rachael Ray. Like we didn't see that coming."

Now, I have no idea whether Rachael Ray is or isn't, nor do I give a rat's patoot...however, that's the lead-in to my conversation with Coach.

Me: So JL heard RR is a HUGE BITCH. I guess everyone hates her!

Coach: Well, that's great. That means there's hope for you yet. You can be all rich and famous and you won't have to change a bit. Lucky girl.

Please note that Coach was a good distance away (in freakin' North Carolina) when he told me this via cell phone...otherwise I would have kicked him in his junk.

Walk the Walk, Talk the Talk

Today I took the minis to a walking trail that I pass on my drive to work. It was perfect outside weather for this (Clemson)girl; 61 and slightly cloudy. Love. It. No sweating, no rain, no sunburn, just perfect.

We walked for about an hour and along the way we saw (according to the minis): a mangy raccoon with rabies, 3 horses who were brothers, 2 dogs that could "eat you", a fat puppy who breathed too loud, 2 men running with "girls' iPods", dinosaur bones, a field of weeds that "Daddy needs to spray", 4 crabby mommies with strollers, and the ubiquitous bear tracks.

In reality, I saw nothing but a wide open space for them to run and some poison ivy (Maybe. I "quit" Girl Scouts" before earning that badge. I also determined that this would be a great spot for a long walk with Coach or a girlfriend (mine, not his) to really talk.

Assuming that it's 61, slightly cloudy and not sunburn-y.

Shorts and Getting Shorted

If you have a pair of old navy blue Clemson shorts from college and you pull them out of the drawer today and put them on...and you look in the mirror and think, "Hmmm, I am not sporting nearly the pooch I thought I was!" You might want to turn them around b/c they are backwards and that extra room is for your arse.

Also? If you drive by Bank of America and think to yourself, "Wow. Those flowers look really pretty", said bank might call you on your cell phone to tell you that you were accidentally overcharged $370 in April and that they are refunding your money immediately (or within 7-10 business days). And you might weep with joy (within 7-10 business days).

I'm just sayin'.

Post Script

Oh, and when the Priest happened to walk into Waffle House after Mass, Jack told him he had a "fat butt" (which he does).

From his lips to God's ears. With the obligatory Catholic intermediary.

Mass Chaos

Good thing I got up nice and early this morning to wash my hair and get on something decent for Mass at 8:30am. (What? We're Catholic. I've sat behind someone with a Jack Daniels hat and flip flops, it's no biggie. Jesus is not so much interested in what you're wearing. I promise. More that you're actually there. And not reading Cat in the Hat like Ryan was. And yes, I said 8:30. We've got to hustle to get our booth at the Waffle House before all the Baptists get out of "services".)

But I did bust out the H&M skinny black cropped pants ("skinny" of course refers to the cut of the pants, not the size of my arse) and a black and white 70s print babydoll top. Black high heeled sandals and the ever-faithful yellow beads. Hair Cycle: Day 1 minus the rollers. No time for that this early.

Good thing, too. We were asked to present the gifts.

*the usher initially handed the wine and water in glass carafes to the minis...notsomuch

Ground Control

I am done. Worn out. Tired. Rough.

Needing to hunker down this weekend with Coach and the minis for some real R&R.

I've lost my girly mojo.

Tuned In

Last night Coach and I were watching Top Chef and that Detrol LA commercial came on. You know, the one where the lady is in the doctor's office and the "women" symbol hops off the door to the bathroom and starts having a conversation with her, then proceeds to sit next to her during her exam?

Coach: "You know she may need that Detrol LA for her bladder control, but what she really needs is some head medicine. Some crazy in the head medicine for talking to that symbol. Freak."

And then goes right back to his depth chart on the laptop.

Liftoff

Coach just went to pick up my brand spanking new vacuum cleaner from Best Buy. I love love love the 4 year service plan which has given me 3 new vacuums. He opted for the one designed for pets, even though I am the only one in the Casa de Chaos who is shedding. We're an animal free zone. At least until the minis can take care of themselves a bit more.

Amen to not having to remove the very long, very brunette hairs from the old one.

Now if only he'd be the one to use it...

New Blog

I don't usually post new blogs, because really? I need competition for your attention? Notsomuch. But this girl is fu-nny!

Of course, she is a Gamecock, but perhaps we'll forgive her lapse of judgement.

Plus, she has access to lots and lots of drugs. Really good ones.

Check her out here...

Blonds Have More Fun?

No idea why so many of you thought I was blond. But, notsomuch. Here's proof positive. Brunette all the way. And really? Do blonds really have more fun than this?

Mom and the minis with Mickey. Please notice the several week old manicure. What you can't see is the chocolate ice cream Jackson spilled all over my green Lilly shirt. Ni-ice.

St. Patty's day. Me and Mandy B. One of the most fun blonds I know. Hello to her over in Europe enjoying her fab summer. Hurry back, friend!

Jack and I at a baseball function. That function clearly had a cowboy theme. Please take special note of the VS cherry bomb lip gloss. It's a neccessity with a cowboy hat.

On the Boardwalk at Disney. Love love love Ryan's jacket. He calls it "the spinach" jacket because that's the shade of green. The shade of green on Jack's pants is green icing from an enormous cupcake.

EPCOT fountains. Really? This was the only good hair day anyone has ever had in Florida. Perfect humidity paired with a rockin' Chi iron = smooth tresses all day. For once.

Jack's Mother's day tea this year. Those yellow beads are a nice distraction from my forehead wrinkles. I'd get botox except for the needles and the it's not free factors.

This photo is really just here to show off the Clemson tees on the minis. Bad, bad hair day for me, but I believe this shot was at about 6am. Get over it. Immediately.

If I Only Had a Girl

If I had a daughter, I imagine this is what she'd look like. How about those curls? Which clearly came from her mom, my AUNT who is holding her. Yes, my AUNT is my age. How weird is that. Also? Please disregard all of my new wrinkles. Blame it on the real estate market. Or the minis. Of whom I took no photos at the party. Oops.

Oh, and the black and white shirt is H&M, whopping $12.90. The gold necklace is from Target, $12.99 a few weeks ago. The only bad thing about VS Cherry Bomb lip gloss is that it's not great in photos at night. But really, when you're on Hair Cycle: Day 1, there's no need to gild the lily, right?!

The baby's dress is from BRU and Auntie's dress is Kohl's. (Not that anyone is even looking at us next to that sweet princess.)

Esquire-esq

JenontheEdge posted about this yesterday, and you all know I give credit where credit is due. So here's how Coach stacks up in the Esquire article's 75 Things a Man Should Master.

1. Give advice that matters in one sentence. Coach is short on words. 1/2 a sentence is all he needs from the Bullpen. Or a series of very complicated hand signals. Which I may or may not ask him to do in the bedroom for my entertainment.

2. Tell if someone is lying. No idea. I'd never tell him a mistruth or exaggerate, so who knows...hee hee hee

3. Take a photo. Dear Heaven. The best photo ever is one Coach took of me and Ryan a 4 months. Seriously?? Mona Lisa-ish.

4. Score a baseball game. You're kidding me, yes?

5. Name a book that matters. Unless we're counting Baseball America as a book...

6. Know at least one musical group as well as is possible. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are the only musical group that ever mattered.

7. Cook meat somewhere other than the grill. Yep. Linguine with clams. Book it.

8. Not monopolize the conversation. Conversations? With me? You mean listening to my monologues, right?

9. Write a letter. When you say letter, you mean like "K" or "E", yes?

10. Buy a suit. And when you say "suit" you mean sliding shorts and trainers of course.

11. Swim three different strokes.I do know he's quite practiced in the breast stroke... hmmm.

12. Show respect without being a suck-up. Coach is surely not a suck-up kind of guy. Thus the 84,000 moves in 9 years...

13. Throw a punch. As long as he's not punching me, we're golden. One raised hand to Clemsongirl and well, it's on.

14. Chop down a tree. I'm a big fan of a hubby with all his appendages, so let's not go there, k?

15. Calculate square footage. Now why exactly would a man who is married to a Realtor need to do this?

16. Tie a bow tie. Notsomuch. But he kicks ass in double knotting the minis' shoes.

17. Make one drink, in large batches, very well. Coach makes some killer sweet tea...but I think we're talking Purple Jesus here.

18. Speak a foreign language. I'm confused. Don't all men speak a foreign language called ManSpeak?

19. Approach a woman out of his league. Hello? We're married, remember. All his buddies told him to give it up. He'd never have a chance with a rich sorority girl like me. Humpf. Joke's on me.

20. Sew a button. No idea. UnderArmour tends to be low on the buttons...

21. Argue with a European without getting xenophobic or insulting soccer. Xenophobic? Coach prefers 2 syllable words. And soccer isn't really a man's sport now, is it?

22. Give a woman an orgasm so that he doesn’t have to ask after it. Well, let me go confirm this one in person... back in 10...

Ok, I am back. Nice work.

23. Be loyal. Truer words were never spoken.

24. Know his poison, without standing there, pondering like a dope. Never, ever seen him drunk. Ever. No intention of it. I'll get drunk enough for both of us.

25. Drive an eight penny nail into a treated two-by-four without thinking about it. Wait a hot minute. You can buy something that costs 8 pennies? Bullshank.

26. Cast a fishing rod without shrieking or sighing or otherwise admitting defeat. He'll never find out. If the poor man gets a day off, this (Clemson)girl sure as hell isn't suggesting (read: allowing) him to spend it fishing! For the love of Mary we're not pioneers.

27. Play gin with an old guy. I feel confident that he and some old Scout would be just fine. Although he is 40, so can we include him playing Solitaire with himself?

29. Understand quantum physics well enough that he can accept that a quarter might, at some point, pass straight through the table when dropped. WTF?

30. Feign interest. Lest we forget I can wax poetic about the merits of pleather $11 shoes from Payless. Or free Pantene.

31. Make a bed. Really? Is this one for real?

32. Describe a glass of wine in one sentence without using the terms nutty, fruity, oaky, finish, or kick. I 1000% promise you that would never, ever happen. Ever. He does however refer to baseball pitches as heat, cheddar...

33. Hit a jump shot in pool. Duh. MVP all around athletically. And all the damn paraphernalia is on display at my in laws if you don't believe me. Ironically, my parents have nothing of mine on display. Except an invoice...

34. Dress a wound. Got it. Coach is the go to medicine man. When available. (December 24/25)

35. Jump-start a car. Change a flat tire. Change the oil. When you have driven an 84 Camaro until 2005 you are well versed in the jump starting.

36. Make three different bets at a craps table. Take a crap? What?

37. Shuffle a deck of cards. No idea. This is usually after my 3rd Beam and Diet Whateversonsale.

38. Tell a joke. Yep. Especially if it's about me.

39. Know when to split his cards in blackjack. huh?

40. Speak to an eight-year-old so he will hear. Coach indeed supplements the coaching income (sunflower seeds and trainers in case you forgot) with camps for 6-17 year olds.

41. Speak to a waiter so he will hear. That boy can order some Italian food to make you weep.

42. Talk to a dog so it will hear. OMG. He is scared of dogs. He may kill me for having typed that.

43. Install: a disposal, an electronic thermostat, or a lighting fixture without asking for help. Not if his life depended on it.

44. Ask for help. Dropping your dirty laundry on the floor and sitting at the table with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other is ASL for "Help!" right?

45. Break another man’s grip on his wrist. Coach could beat your ass. But he wouldn't.

46. Tell a woman’s dress size. Hell no. It's hard to have a good reference when your wife removes all indicative numbers from clothing.

47. Recite one poem from memory. If song lyrics are poems, then absolutely.

48. Remove a stain. From a baseball uniform, yes.

49. Say no. Yes (sigh)

50. Fry an egg sunny-side up. Possibly the one thing I can't do in life.

51. Build a campfire. Our family motto is "Just say no to camping." And bowling.

52. Step into a job no one wants to do. Um, he married me. Is that considered a job?
53. Sometimes, kick some ass. Hell to the yes.

54. Break up a fight. I suppose.

55. Point to the north at any time. If "the North" is clearly marked by 84,000 highly lit signs.

56. Create a play-list in which ten seemingly random songs provide a secret message to one person. No question.

57. Explain what a light-year is. Mr. Science? Duh.

58. Avoid boredom. I just figured out why we've moved 84,000 times. Avoiding boredom. And roots.

59. Write a thank-you note. Heartfelt but many, many weeks later.

60. Be brand loyal to at least one product. I'm sorry, do you not know the benefits of Old Spice Classic anti/deo?

61. Cook bacon. Duh. But I am really more interested in the bringing home of said bacon.

62. Hold a baby. While both he and baby are naked. Seen that movie.

63. Deliver a eulogy. Death of a Gamecock? Bring it bitches.

64. Know that Christopher Columbus was a son of a bitch. Um. No?

65-67. Throw a baseball over-hand with some snap. Throw a football with a tight spiral. Shoot a 12-foot jump shot reliably. Triple duh. Coach is an athletic stud.

68. Find his way out of the woods if lost. You'd find him naked in a tree eating berries.

69. Tie a knot. And relace a baseball glove.

70. Shake hands. Really? This is a question?

71. Iron a shirt. I'm confused. Why would one iron an Easton hoodie?

72. Stock an emergency bag for the car. Sure. It would contain food, water, sunscreen for the noggin, hat, half of GNC aisle 5 and a Bruce Springsteen 8 track.

73. Caress a woman’s neck. As long as the neck is mine, have at it.

74. Know some birds. Jersey boy will flip you the bird.

75. Negotiate a better price. Hell no. Coach will overpay to avoid talking about it.

Thoughts?

Shi-ot

Tonight we had a surprise 60th birthday for my Father.

The budget of said party may or may not have been my inheritance and/or trust fund.

I think my parents have a new motto, "No Child Left a Dime."

Magnum PI

Wondering where your stinking stimulus money is? I called SunTrust no fewer than 4 times today to see if mine was deposited today as expected. Notsomuch. Hmmm, I possibly may be regretting some budgetary decisions I made this month. (Insert something here about counting your chickens before they are hatched and I'll kick you in the tailpipe.)

If you used Turbo Tax (or another tax prep program) and had the amount of the program deducted from your return (as I did instead of using my debit card or whatever) your money won't be direct deposited.

So thanks to Coach's social ending in 9freaking9, our 80's style paper check will be mailed mid July.

Super. Can't wait.

I feel the need to defend Ole Coach. Indeed, he did point out Spitzer's call girl but...

He's, um, hot. Like really, really hot. Like has a body that makes you slightly nervous like when you were in 7th grade and a boy looked at you in the lunch room.

And he reads the blog daily...so ixnay on the eastingtay him. That's my job.

hee hee hee

Hi Coach!

New York Schmost

Got to the Atlanta airport yesterday afternoon with the minis in tow. Now, mind you this is flight 84,000 with me flying solo with them. Nothing but a thing. In fact, I don't think Coach has ever been on a plane with us. Unless you count the one time in Nashville that Ryan and I happened to be on the same flight as the entire baseball team. Coach was sitting all high and mighty in the fancy-pants section and the flight attendants were falling all over themselves to get them drinks and lap dances and whatnot. Whilst I was in the all the way back juggling a breast pump, a newborn and a Bloody Mary. Which I may or may not have spilled on the baby's white socks and passed off as baby vomit. But, I digress.

So, when I got the airport yesterday, I determined that curbside check-in just wasn't going to work. It was pouring rain and there's no way at Hartsfield to do that with children if you're traveling solo. So, I decided upon Valet parking. Hey, my car's only going to be there for 4 days and I sure as shi-ot am not going to parade through a raining parking lot with 2 boys, 2 suitcases, 2 backpacks, 2 car seats and my gold hobo purse am I? While wearing gold mules and a white swing jacket? Me thinketh notsomuch.

I've been through this drill before at a million airports. Pull the monogrammed minivan (formerly a red Jeep) up to the valet. Smile through my VS cherry bomb lip gloss and wait while the valet gets a buddy to haul my stuff up to the check in counter. Indy, Chicago, Nashville, Cincy, Orlando...all the major airports have this fab service. Of course, the minivan is uber safe parked next to the luxury cars who use this service. Hell, I could leave my iPod (have you downloaded P.Y.T. yet?) and my digital camera in there and it'd be safe.

So I roll on through the gate and ask the attendant which way to Valet Parking. He replies,

"Atlanta ain't got no Valet no mo'."

Tears. Buckets and buckets of mommy tears.

After 20+ minutes of driving around, I find a spot. Haul the aforementioned 2 minis, 2 backpacks, 2 suitcases, 2 car seats and my gold hobo bag to the Terminal. In my gold mules and now wrinkled white swing jacket.

At this point, Coach has called a half a dozen times to check on us. He's on a bus headed to a 3 game series with the team, and therefore most likely watching some shoot 'em up movie and reading Maxim.

He urgently tells me to "Find a copy of the New York Post and call me immediately." I check-in, unload everything except the 2 back packs, 2 minis and my purse and check 84,000 newsstands. No NY Post. I call my office and ask someone to check the front page online. No dice.

I call Coach and admit defeat. He confesses that the paper boasts a photo of one of the most gorgeous women he's ever laid eyes on...

Elliot Spitzer's call girl.

Are we clear on what I am dealing with?

Ignoring the fact that I am getting a brutal cold (thanks dad?!) and powering through the next 24 hours. Scrubbed the bathrooms within and inch of their lives and put away 84,000 loads of laundry. Cleaned the kitchen, etc.

Have a couple (read: tons) of things to iron and then pack for our trip to Chicago.

More interesting items later, just making sure you all hold me accountable for cleaning up the Casa de Chaos before it becomes that Casa de Contamination.

Meme of Five

Thanks to Mad About Plaid for the inspiration, this week's a bit crazy and I was faltering on the blogging.

Five things I can't live without under $10:
1. Diet Whateversonsale and/or Venti Extra Hot Skim Chai
2. Newspaper
3. Cell phone car charger
4. Lotion; in the bathroom, kitchen sink, on the mantle, in my purse, in my desk at work, in the monogrammed minivan.
5. Label tape for the label maker.

Five Favorite Movies:
1. Gone With the Wind (duh.)
2. Election (Reese Witherspoon, Matthew Broderick; what's not to love?)
3. Talladega Nights (I wanna go fast!)
4. Shag (Hello?! South Carolina girlfriends, Clemson boner reference, best. music. ever.)
5. Superbad (Yes, gentle reader, I am a seventh grade boy. Moving on.)


Five girls' names I love:
1. Catherine
2. Elizabeth
(Why do I need more than 2? I'm so only having dirt eating boys...even if I have 84,000 more. Boys are all I'd get.)

Five boys' names I love:
1. Ryan
2. Andrew
3. Jack
4. Patrick
5. Benjamin (shout out to Skinny's middle one)

Five songs I could listen to over and over again:
1. Pachabel's Canon in D
2. Clemson Fight Song/ Clemson Alma Mater
3. If I Should Fall Behind (Bruce Springsteen; the theme song of my marriage)
4. You're So Vain (Carly Simon; the theme song of my life. Kidding. Not.)
5. P.Y.T. by Michael Jackson. (Laugh now, then load it on your iPod. You love that song. Sucker.)

Five things that stay in my purse at all times:
1. Pink cell phone. (I am jonesing for a new orange one BTW.)
2. VS Cherry Bomb lip gloss. At least 3.
3. Yellow and black sorority ballpoint pen.
4. Digital Camera and back up batteries.
5. 84,000 Target receipts (The SuperTarget pharmacist asked me tonight if I wanted to set up house in the furniture dept. Really freaking funny. Not.)

Five obsessions I have right now:
1. Treading Water. (Figuratively. Keeping my head above the proverbial water of crap I need to do. (Clemson)girl is ti-red.)
2. Finding a new pair of black flip flops to replace last year's sparkly ones. No luck thusfar. Must be the perfect combo of not heavy, partnered with being cheap.
3. Dried cranberries. And Aged Kerry Gold Cheddar cheese. Costs $84,0000. Tastes like a million dollars. So a good buy all around.
4. Trying to keep myself from reading Jen Lancaster's new book before my plane ride on Thursday. (May actually accomplish this as an indirect result of the boys' baseball tournies.)
5. American manicures. Understated + Chip resistant = Sell Alot of Houses.

Five places I'd love to go:
1. To bed. Alone or with Coach. Not picky at this juncture of exhaustion.
2. Clemson; (huge freakin' duh) to check out Clemsonlocal's new shop Tickled Orange (hi Maggie!)
3. To FishyBusyness' house to get my hands on her Red Fish. (that's her new(ish)baby, silly!)
4. To my parents'; great news! Heading to Chicago in 72 hours!
5. Anywhere on vaca with Coach. Like yesterday.

Orange = Awesome

Us Clemson fans already knew that the color orange represented awesome.

Now Crayola is telling the world. Orange = Awesome.

Go get your new box of 64.

They're Coming!

The relief troops are coming!

After a long, hard spring of essentially single parenting, the backup troops are coming.

My dad will be here in 4 hours and my mom and granny will be here Thursday afternoon. It promises to be a fabulous 5 days.

I may even get to go to the bathroom alone.
...bliss...

New Release

I only have to make it through one more day until this book comes out! Can a (Clemson)girl be more excited? Me thinketh notsomuch.

Of course we've all read Bitter is the New Black and Bright Lights Big Ass, so we're fully aware of how exciting this is! Girl is seventeen shades of hilarious. OK, eighteen. Nineteen if you've had an adult beverage before reading her.

Also? She's doing a book signing in Hotlanta next week, which I will be attending. (Tuesday/May 13 7:00p Barnes & Noble 2900 Peachtree Road) I'll be the "used to be cute" brunette attempting to get Jen Lancaster's attention most likely with the minis in tow. (Oh, and if you plan on going, the Buckhead Barnes and Noble is a little sticky about getting an author to sign a book you didn't buy there. So pick up your copy at B&N on Tuesday and save the receipt.)

Weekend Observations

If you want to see the bowels of Atlanta society, head to SuperWalMart on Saturday afternoon. (Please note that the one and only reason I was there is to take advantage of a deal on something. Saving money=putting up with folks that have meth mouth.)

If you drink a Venti Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte with a Cranberry Orange Scone, you will indeed get through 2 baseball games at 8:40a. You will not necessarily look cute in your black cropped pants and Coach's grey sweatshirt, even if you do smell like a combo of Pineapple body wash and Burberry Brit (Sounds foul in theory, but in real life you'd want to lick me. Trust me.) andhave freshly shaven gams. Said sweatshirt is approximately 84,000 years old and sports a logo on the chest from "Wolfgang's Gym" in Virginia. In any case, the silver flip flops I may or may not have been wearing rounded the outfit out nicely.

If you tell the minis you're letting them "stay up extra late" and it's only 6:10p when you start the movie, at 7:55p at the conclusion of said movie, they adore you. In fact, they scatter to their respective beds with calls of "I can't believe she let us stay up 'til midnight! She is great!" Ahhh, the age of innocence.

TTFN. I am off to...well...sit on the couch alone. Again. And watch Knocked Up. Again. (insert sad little pout. again.)