FYI

Items of note:

1. I pulled a box from the attic yesterday labeled "STDNF". I unpacked it for wear! Do you know what that stands for? It stands for "Shiot That Does Not Fit", I refuse to label a box with the actual words, which would be actual evidence. However, It Fits Now. Just saying. It's like having a file folder marked "STNH"..."Shiot That Needs Handling".

2. Martin's Biscuits on Hwy 41? I assume it's delicious. Looks yummy. I abstained from eating anything while there with Coach and the minis today after 8:30 Mass. FitGirl was proud. Bon Qui Qui also works there. Not kidding. Don't order anything complicated or she'll call "sa-kur-i-tay" on you. I wish this was a joke. However, it's reality in Atlanta this morning. When she forgot to give us the minis' waters, she said, "Oh, I forget to give my baby a drink all the time." OMG. Family Services anyone?

3. I love our black Labrador puppy. He is 10 months old and enormous. I can't seem to get a picture of him without red eyes and craziness. Can someone please advise? I know you're all dying to see him. He has grown 10 fold since this photo I posted. Literally 10 fold. Was 8 lbs, now he's 80+. Sweet Bowman. He and his friend that we are dog sitting have made Family Circus type muddy paw prints all over the kitchen floor.

4. I may or may not have freaked out a little in the Ralph Lauren outlet yesterday when I realized that both the minis have progressed to the Big Boy sizes. More expensive and not nearly as sweet. As a result, I booked out of there empty handed and wandered into Kate Spade next door. I'm not a label girl, never have been. However, I did buy a little surcie for myself. And when I say little, I mean really, really little. I bought the gold ric rac hoops...for $6.41. Just saying, even the Priest probably gave them a second look at Mass. They're cute!

Thank Heavens I'm Not Pregnant

Today Coach and I were with the children at a shoe store. The Nike store actually, bleh. Smelled like a locker room and rubber. Ewwww. Coach is on the hunt for some magic sneakers that are super elusive. I'm on the hunt for a smaller arse. Which is less elusive.

In any case, I tell you why we were there simply so you don't get confused and think I have gone all athletic on you. I have not. I HAVE lost 9 pounds, thanks to FitGirl and her fabulousness, but I digress.

I saw the most darling little pink sneakers, teeny tiny itty bitty infant size ones. I held them up.

"Awww! Aren't these so sweet! Can you imagine? If we had a little baby girl and she was wearing these?"

Coach started laughing.

The minis scowled.

"Yuck!" They said. "It would not be cute. It would be gross!"

"Yeah," Six year old Jack said shaking his little fool head, "If you had a baby, and it was a girl, we would shoot her with our Nerf guns."

So, it's a good thing I'm not pregnant.

In other news? Coach said my Barbie flip was "a little low" today. I kicked him in his junk.

Kiss Me

Totally wanted to make out with Fed Ex boy who delivered my check from Bank of America. Only took for-evah. Ridiculous. They still owe me several hundred dollars in fees, but the overpayment has been returned. Which is a good thing, we're running low on Diet Whateversonsale.

Dropped Coach's car at the repair shop. As enjoyable as it is to ride around in his car with the window all the way down in 40 degree weather, I'm notafan. I am however, the world's best wife for managing all of that. Just saying.

Smooches. Back in a minute. Or half a day. Either one.

I Can't Get No...

Satisfaction.

So far my Customer Service rating for TwentyTen is a D. Maybe a D minus.

Truly, it's ridiculous. I feel like every where I go, every service I pay for, there's an "issue". Now, don't go all devil's advocate on me and point out that I am the common denominator. It's not me. Pinky swear.

Earlier in January I took the children to Chipotle. Got double charged.

SuperTarget, bought some frozen snacks for Coach...expired. By 2 months. Ewwww.

Chick-fil-A chick was rude as rude could be.

Dentist, well, just read my last post. Aye.

Pediatrician had minis insurance card from last visit, but "couldn't put their hands on it" when I arrived on Friday.

Lest we forget the banking debacle between SunTrust and Bank of America. Don't think that issue is resolved. FedEx better show up today...that's all I'm saying.

The house my client is building and closing on Thursday? Burglarized. An inside job. Sweet.

What's the deal? Is everyone so beaten down by their own life that no one cares anymore? You'd think that companies would have weeded out the crappy employees by now. I know some PhDs who would give their left arm right now for a job as a Barista. It's that bad out there.

So why can't I get any satisfaction?

The driver's side window in Coach's car won't go up. I better not get any lip from the repair shop or I'm going Jenny from the Block. Forewarned is Forearmed,

Seriously people? Seriously.

UnCharted Territory

Well, I can assure you that what happened to me today at the pediatric dentist has never, ever happened to you. Any of you. I'll bet you a DietWhateversonsale. Pinky swear.

I'll give you the Cliff Notes version of today. The details are both confusing, somewhat boring and appalling. The practice is very large and is a fantastic place. In theory.

In reality?

They lost the minis charts. Again. Can't find treatment information or films from Orthodontist. Can't locate last appointment's xrays. Dueling dentists in the same office recommend conflicting treatment plans (appliances v. extraction). General disarray. Very frustrated Clemsongirl.

Major goat rodeo.

We left with 4 movie tickets and a bottle of Dom Perignon.

Not. Even. Kidding.

Back in Time

Circa 1980ish

Circa 1982ish

It's Wednesday, so of course Cinderella is home cleaning the Casa de Chaos. I'm rocking some plaid orange and pink pj pants and some pigtails. It's a current trend on Facebook to post "retro" photos of yourself. I have interpreted this as to mean old pics of me ages 2 to 8. It's hilarious. Thus, today's pigtails, albeit much lower.

I particularly find it funny to post athletic pics, as Coach is convinced that I am as coordinated as Mary Katherine Gallagher in Superstar. Additionally it's like looking at photos of my children with long hair. Identical.

I sat down to post a bank bash, as my "issue" is still "pending", but I have decided to hold off on that. Good chi. Good karma. Good luck. Whatever, I'm holding my tongue in high hopes that today's the day they solve the problem.

See you in a bit sweets, got to finish this Casa. No religious education today, so minis and I will be heading to the park. Ok, really the library. I'm still that indoorsy kind of girl.

Of Course I Did

Morning sunshine. Or not, since Atlanta apparently only needs a day or 2 of decent weather amongst rain, slow flurries and floods. Sheesh.

Bank issue still not resolved. Just an FYI.

You know of my love of a huge Tervis Big T (usually one with an orange monogram or the pink golf cart...) full of ice and Diet Whateversonsale. Sadly, our ice machine seems to be inoperable. Don't ask me what's wrong, I have no idea. I simply know it's not making ice. Which really is irritating when it just has the one job. I understand being overwhelmed if I'm asking you to do more than one task, but I'm not. Just make ice. Sigh...

In any case, I had a bag of ice in the outside freezer ("by outside freezer", I mean the one in the garage, not technically outside.) I had been adding it to the ice maker. There was a huge section in the middle of the bag that was one big piece of ice. So annoying. I set it on the kitchen counter and whacked it a few times to break it up.

No dice.

I took the end of the ice cream scoop and tried that.

No dice.

Then, for some reason still unclear to me, I decided to slam my elbow into the ice to break it up. Yes, you read that correctly. I guess I estimated my brute strength to be that of Chuck Norris. I have nothing but regret for that poor, poor decision.

Of course, it hurt like hell and jacked up my funny bone. Which is not even a little bit funny. At. All. I got woozy and threw up.

No dice. Duh.

Damn. Should have just gone to Sonic.

Them's Fightin' Words!

Every couple has them. Those certain words or phrases that are sure to start a fight. You remember, like this fight we had? In the Casa de Chaos, we have a few "off limits” sentences.


The first one is, “What time will you be home?” I’m not allowed to ask Coach that. Makes him absolutely boil. He really has such an insane schedule that changes hour by hour with the weather, injuries, recruits and student athletes, there’s no guarantee when he’ll be home. It’s a fight we had 84,000 times early in our marriage. I’d ask him, he’d give me a ball park (no pun intended) time frame and I’d hold him to it. If he was later than that, well, I went ballistic. So now, he gets home when he is done from work. Whatever time that is. I’d like to think he hurries home, although I suspect he may be spending some time on ESPN. Just saying. He texts on his way home, and that seems to work for us.


The second one is, “What’s for dinner?” Here’s a secret, I actually don’t care what we eat. Sure, I love a good meal…if someone else is making it. I feel like he is judging me when he asks what we are having. I tend to be, ahem, inconsistent, about whether I make a gourmet meal. What if I say frozen pizza? What if I say I have no idea? Hell, what if I say cereal? (Coach just passed out reading that as a possibility. I promise I have never served the man cold cereal for dinner, or breakfast for that matter.) In any case, the rule in our house is this; when you get home, if dinner is cooking or on the table, there’s your answer. That’s what we’re having. If not…I suggest making that frozen pizza yourself. Surely there’s some protein in there somewhere.
Of course, there are other things that Coach and I argue about.



Every marriage has it’s “style of fighting”. I have some friends who strip to their birthday suits before they fight. I guess it’s hard to argue naked? I have another friend who has quite a good plan, although I am sure I am much too bullheaded to try it. They wait 24 hours before having an argument. That way, enough time has gone by to be sure it’s worth fighting about. I, however, want to getinyourfacerightthisverysecond and tell you why I am right! Which I clearly am. Hee hee


A friend from college and her husband “fast forward” through their arguments. You know, just skip the blah blah and get to the point. “You’re lazy. I’m a nag. I’ll be mad at you for a while, then I’ll pick up your crap and move on.” Sort of the Terri Clark style. (love that song, BTW) Both know that the other isn’t leaving, they still love each other, but man, are they mad.


I’m a crier. Coach is a…well, let’s not tote tales on him. He is, I will admit, immune to the crying. Some girls tear up and hubs just goes all crazy apologizing. Notsomuch Coach. Must be the whole idea of his players being “tough”. Well, I’m no college athlete and I am much more sensitive than most people know. I will say that Coach doesn’t apologize. He is very deliberate and says that he wouldn’t say something that he’d regret later. So if he says it, he means it. He may be sorry it made me upset, but he’s not sorry he said it.


Seems like next time I want to argue with Coach, I should wait 24 hours, take my clothes off and make him some chicken parmesan…not very likely.

* WOW! Huge thanks to 94.9 The Bull in Atlanta for having me this morning to talk about the blog and for linking me! You are fantastic, love it! *

Snark

Don't know what just made me think of this.

Just before the holidays, I headed up to Charlotte for a weekend of shopping and enjoying my girlfriends up there. Coach was here with the minis.

The first night, I stopped in Clemson. While enjoying a lovely meal with 2 friends, I get this phone call from Coach.

"Uh, well hey! We are out walking the dog and we got locked out. What should I do?"

Being the kind, helpful and gentle wife that I am, I responded.

"Get in your time machine and stop doing stupid stuff."

I Don't THINK So

Bank issue still "pending".

Will keep you up to date on that hot mess, I assure you. However branch manager made the mistake of calling me yesterday from her private number. Can you say, "add to Blackberry address book?" I called that chick this morning at 8am She was confused as to how that happened before the bank opened. That's how I roll. If you assure me that you will do something, and you don't...uh, well? I'm just saying. I seriously doubt my pestering and phone calls is expediting the process, but it really makes me feel better. That's the goal here, yes?

Finger Pointing

"It's his fault! I didn't do anything!"
"No! It's HIS fault! He started it! I was just sitting there!"
"Nah-uh! Don't look at me! I was minding my own business!"

Nope, that's NOT my 6 and 8 year old children fighting in the back of the monogrammed minivan. That's Bank of America and SunTrust arguing over our bank account and MULTIPLE mortgage payments that were drafted...in succession yesterday. Walk through that in your head. Mentally debit 4 mortgage payments from your checking account in one day. How's that look? Notsogood.

I currently know more about the intra-banking and inter-banking system than I ever wanted to. Did you know that there is a difference between a routing number on your physical check and an ACH routing number? Well, there is. I can school you accordingly. I can site the FDIC regulations of routing numbers for you now in my sleep, if I was getting any sleep. Yesterday I sent no fewer than 31 unsuccessful faxes, 6 pages each...So far, it's 3 days of my life I'll never get back. Problem is not solved.

Remember last Monday when I was all sanctimonious about the bank error and resulting letter admitting said error? Well, needless to say...it has mushroomed.

SunTrust wants a letter saying it's Bank of America's fault. Bank of America wants a letter saying it's SunTrust's fault. How freaking convenient. I just want our money back. I like money, so I can pay for super exciting things...like groceries and baseball registration. I also am a fan of just the one mortgage payment each month...which is actually why it's called a monthly payment. Mother of Pete.

I have a suggestion for the banks. In the event that they would not like me to go "Jenny from the Block?" on them AGAIN today...which I will do in person. Dragging my 2 children in their muddy baseball cleats into the respective branch offices.

These bastards need to battle it out Nerf war style.

Snow Way

Reasons 1 through 6 I don't live up North anymore. These are from Christmas in Chicago.

Just saying photo #1 is reason enough.

The Weekend

Aye. Jack got stomach flu on Thursday. I was literally pulling on the interstate to head to a listing appointment when his sweet teacher called. I pulled a u-turn (not literally, relax) and headed to pick him up. We left the house today for the first time since then. Boo.

My parents are heading back to Atlanta tomorrow en route home from the beach. The children are beside themselves, you do realize that they love my parents more than they love me? And that affection goes both ways. Truly, I never saw a child more in love with his Granny...

We have volunteered as a family, including my parents, with Project Linus. It's a great volunteer opportunity for the children to do something tangible. We did it through the Disney program. Which is sort of full circle...when I worked at Disney, I was a VoluntEAR. I volunteered at Give Kids the World, which is amazing. You can't imagine. In any case, we're planning on making our blankets during this visit.

Went to Super Target for groceries this afternoon and I have to say, the Great Savings Bullshank situation in the back of the store is bad, bad. It wants to be Costco, and the cardboard fixtures make me nauseous. There are random zip hoodies and packages of lamps and boxes of tampons all in one aisle. It's a disaster. Please avoid at all costs.

Just a quick update, off to referee a Nerf war and then blissful bedtime for the minis.

Smooches.

Half Apron

This apron looks like something I absolutely do not need but dang isn't it cute!?

Morning Sunshine!

Notsomuch. It's 27 and fixing to snow in Atlanta. Yes, I said "fixing to snow", the juxtaposition of the Southern phrase and the Northern weather just cracks me up. The lack of milk and bread at Publix does not amuse me quite as much. In any case, we are anticipating a possible early release today and who knows about tomorrow? Which is extremely convenient since I have a listing appointment in Alpharetta at 1:30. Boo.

Spring semester is never my favorite. It's Coach's busy season (As if the other season's aren't busy?) and the boys also have 84,000 sports. This year we have a weird soccer situation as a result of the floods and ...wait for it...

The minis will be playing on 4 separate teams. Yep, 2 baseball teams and 2 soccer teams. For the love of Mike, I had them close together for this very reason. But they are in limbo with age groups and therefore the 4 teams. I can't wait to see that schedule. Of course, Coach is totally out of the picture in the spring, which means it's the Mommy Show. Boo again.

So, if you happen to see me, the ponytailed, slightly strung out mom losing her cool at the ball field...at least you've been forewarned. And forewarned is forearmed. Just saying.

Uh Oh

My personal motivator, FitGirl is going to be so mad at me...I think.

I went over my caloric allowance by 28 calories today.

Let's not tell her. Oh, wait...she's a reader...

Long Longer Longest

OMG. I can't believe I still live at the same address.

Being married to a Coach has it's ahem, ups and downs. For me, one of the ups (usually) is constant moving. It forces me to stay organized and to dive right in. It also means I never grow tired of my house, or my zip code. It also means low level maintenance of the house. If you don't live in it very long you don't have to really do much to it beyond decorating! One stop of the coaching tour was a mere 9 months. That was complete and total bullshank...but I digress.

However.

However, we have now lived in Atlanta for 3 and a half years! What the heck?! I am starting to notice things about this house that need attention that I have never had to think about before. We need pressure washing. Exterior paint is going to be a requirement in the next year or two. Ducts need to be cleaned out. Trim and paint needed to be redone (Done thanks to my fabulous ATL girlies! More on that later!) Carpet that I planned on replacing upon move-in is now more than past due. There are still no knobs on the kitchen cabinets. The master closet, aka the bane of my existence, still "doesn't work".

And so.

We need to move. But we aren't.

So I guess I need to make some money to manage the carpet situation and start making that closet my bitch...

Name that Name

Today, oh today.

Craptastic. Went to IKEA this morning (bought absolutely not one thing) simply because they have a play area for the children. We had a teacher work day today...boo! The girl checking us in? Vonjovi. Yes, you read that correctly. Lawyer's Wife pointed it out to me and I subsequently have decided to call her Vonjovi from now on. It's all very amusing...living on a prayer. hee hee

Later this afternoon I had to spend the afternoon ferrying between two banks trying to solve a mystery. I was assisted at bank #1 by Odette. Pronounced ODebt. The irony is not lost on me. I left a 84,000 hours later feeling sanctimonious with letters in hand admitting bank error. Ever score one of those? They are absolutely the Holy Grail of small scale banking. You have, in writing, that they are so very sorry for the mistake on their part and for the inconvenience and embarrassment they caused you. Bank's words, not mine. Pinky swear. Usually, we'd all like to think there was a bank error, and notsomuch. This time...I reign victorious. Currently, said letter is residing on refrigerator. Yes, I am a petty bitch, I am fully aware.

The other semi-positive result of said bank stress was that I wasn't terribly hungry. Am using FitGirl's plan and tracking calories. She is very encouraging. Especially when I got an unsweet tea (sacrilege in the South, I assure you) from Chik-fil-a. Which reminds me that Jack used to call Chik-fil-a "Chicken Filly A" when he was little. But, I digress. Skinny latte from Starbucks. It's all changing here people. It's all changing.

Landed 2 new listings this week, one a gorgeous house in Alpharetta and one a cute small family home in Cartersville. Want to buy one?

Night friends, love you all to pieces.

Too Faced

Early this morning I updated my status on Facebook. I pink puffy heart Facebook, BTW.

My status said, "Morning, Gorgeous!"

No lie, a handful of my girlfriends chimed in that surely I was talking directly to them, since they are gorgeous. They are correct. (Really, I was just talking to my own fab self...heehee) They are gorg! I think that's why I love them so much, the level of self-confidence is through the roof. I mean, we are all getting older and who wants to be all down for the count about themselves? If you don't love who you are by now...you're doing something wrong.

Of course, January is a time for resolutions, fresh starts and affirmations. We all have something about ourselves that we'd like to improve or change. I, for example am a fat arse. It's true, I 've typed it, so it must be gospel. I have employed a local girlfriend to help me work that situation out. She will heretofore be referred to as FitGirl. You will bow down to her wisdom and refer to her accordingly. I will under no circumstances be posting pics of my fat arse, so you can just go ahead and kiss that wish goodbye. You may have giggles at my expense only through my written word. Deal with it.

If you don't love yourself...no one will!

On the Second Day

It's been a strange couple of weeks. We went to the Great White North for Christmas and then back to Atlanta. Usually Coach has a camp on the 27th and then runs off to a Coaches-R-Us Convention shortly thereafter, but blissfully he did neither this year. Add that to a University furlough and ... needless to say he has been home for going on 2 weeks. Good for me...so-so for him. I have been yapping his ear off and we have been engaging in super fun activities, like re-venting the dryer. I pulled so much lint out of the duct today I was seriously thinking there might be a mouse in there. Mt. Washmore is almost climbed...I'll plant a Clemson flag atop, I promise.

Yesterday, which was the 1st day of TwentyTen, I sat down at the kitchen table. Lit a yummy candle (Aunt Sadie's Tree in a Can; trust me. It's delish!) and pulled out my new red planner for 2010. Busted out the Sharpie retractables and opened the book. Um, well...it freaking fell apart. In my hands. The binding broke and the pages fell out. The cover came completely off the planner. It was both hilarious and disturbing at the same time. I briefly attempted to MacGyver it with an orange binder clip, but even Coach insisted that I chuck it. Surely this is not an indicator of my upcoming year...I am still sans planner, 2 days into the year. I am starting to twitch.

Today we had a fun lunch with some friends and I took the minis to Target to grab some necessaries. I know the word is necessities, but I like "necessaries" better. Moving on. In any case every rude arse Mom in Atlanta was there and I had to refrain from going Jenny from the Block on them all. Managed to score the remaining orange melamine bowl (clearance, make it happen) that I was missing. Totally worth the jacklegs I had to push out of the way. Just saying.

This afternoon I started reading Skinny Bitch. Yes, I realize you have all read it and I am the one who needs to...sue me. I am only 10 pages in, so am still not Skinny. A bitch, yes, but not a Skinny Bitch. Perhaps the peppermint bark I was eating while reading it was a no-no? Hmmm...

See you tomorrow!

New

Happy New Year Girlies...

What ever shall I write about in TwentyTen?