The Worm

Max had his 3rd grade Christmas concert (wait, maybe I should say "Holiday" Concert, you know how political correctness is taking over every aspect of our lives) last Tuesday. All I can say, I have NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD. They sang several songs, and one of the songs was called Blitzen Boogie. Well, Max and another boy were chosen to be the reindeer who dance while the song is being sung. I know he was nervous, and I still can't believe he agreed to do it. IF you know Max at all, you know that a year ago, this is something that he would have never ever even thought about doing. I was so excited.



So they begin singing, and out comes Max and his buddy, bopping along. They've both got those goofy embarrassed grins pasted to their faces, and looked a little unsure. Then, out of no where, Max started, shall we say, "Breakin' it Down". He was doing the Saturday Night Fever Dance, and the Pulp Fiction Dance that Uma Thurman did with her fingers over her eyes. Then he started doing the "Walk like an Egyptian" thing. It was great. The crowd was loving it. I've got my camera at the ready and I'm snapping away, when all of a sudden, Max looks over at his music teacher, nods his head, and busts out the WORM. The WORM people! It was AWESOME! The crowd went CRAZY! They were all cheering and laughing. It almost brought me to tears. I was so proud. I wanted to stand up and tell everyone "that's my boy!".



I love love love that my children are individuals. That they're not afraid to be themselves. Grace has absolutely no self consciousness. She is totally her own person and isn't afraid to sing a song in the middle of the grocery store or show me a new dance she's made up. Max used to be so quiet and shy and the one on the sidelines, but he has broken out of that shell in the best way! He did the worm!

All I want for Christmas....

If someone asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I would have no answer to give. I have absolutely no idea what i want, what could possibly make me happy. I know I'm not getting anything, and that is perfectly OK with me. I want my kids to get what they want and deserve. I want my nieces and nephews to be blessed with a great Christmas too. I want to win the lottery, I want to be married to my prince charming (that's a laugh huh?). I want to live in a house with a wrap-a-round porch. I want all kinds of things that most people want but don't ever expect to get.

I complain too much, and do the woe-is me bit way too much. In truth, I'm really very blessed. I have a great family, a few really good friends who I would move heaven and earth for, and I live in a country where I don't have to worry about wars in the street, or being persecuted for showing too much skin. What's not to be happy about? (Can you tell I'm having an optimistic day? Just wait, I'm sure I'll be back to "glass half empty" thinking soon enough.)

On a side note; I got out some of the Christmas decorations last night, put up our little Charlie Brown Tree and was trying to decide where to "hang" our stockings when inspiration struck. I decided we needed a fire place. So I got out some poster size paper that I have, taped four pieces to the wall, and we painted a fire place, complete with a "wood" mantel that our stockings our now hanging from. I figure those are the things my kids might remember about Christmas. I might not be able to get them everything they want, but boy do I make it interesting. I think tonight we'll start painting decorations on our sliding glass door.

Love you all!

-Jess

Hilarious Fun

This video is great! I had so much fun doing it, I'm totally

going on the website to make more!

- Jess

I wish my boobs were bigger

I've never been big on women who get those giant fake boobies that are hard as rocks and start to look square after a while. But, I want bigger boobs. That is my dream. To have boobs that look like boobs. Not boobs that look like silly putty and can be pulled and twisted and tied in a knot around my back. My boobs used to be so pretty. I could go with out a bra, and they would stay right where they were supposed to. Now, after two kids, I have tribal monkey boobs.

When I was pregnant, My boobs grew to an enormous size. I didn't realize the benefit cocoa butter would have had. I was stupid, just so enamored with my giant chest that I didn't take the time to think about what would happen when they deflate. I went from a nice "C" to Boobs so big i don't think they could be measured. I was wearing an XXL sports bra and they were still spilling out the top and the sides. Then, the babies came, and the boobies deflated like a popped balloon.

I'm not saying i want giant boobs, but a nice size C would be lovely. Heck, I don't even have to have implants, just a lift would be nice, they might be smaller, but at least they'd be up where they're supposed to be instead of two inches from my belly button.

Oh well. I guess it could be worse. I could have a third eye, or only one butt cheek, or something really defective. I have saggy boobs. Do they make support groups for that?

Have a good weekend, and if you have perky boobs, appreciate them and thank God.

-Jess

It's HUMP Day

I think that Hump Day should mean we get to stop whatever we're doing and go home and Hump. Well, if I had someone at home to hump, maybe i would. But I don't. Hump Day is the worst name. Whoever decided to call it that did not think ahead. They did not have a dirty mind or a potty mouth, and they did not count on me thinking of someone humping every time I hear the phrase. It always makes me giggle like a 12 year old idiot. Hey, take away the 12 years and I'm still an idiot. A just turned 31 goober who giggles when someone says hump, or fart, or boob.

Yep, I'm hard up. Sad isn't it. But actually kind of funny.

So, what should it be called, instead of Hump-Day (giggle giggle)? Any suggestions? I've got one. How about just plain old Wednesday? I think that is a wonderful idea.

-Jess

Happy Monday?

I hope every one's weekend went well. Mine? Not so good. I think I've got a sinus infection mixed with a cold and some type of deadly vomiting thing. I swear, I threw up so much Saturday i stopped breathing at one point. It was insane. It seems like I only get sick on the weekends. Why can't i get sick on the weekdays and use a sick day when I'm actually sick? That would be nice.

Anyhoo, I'm feeling better now, I think. I can stand upright and eat solid foods, so that's a plus.

Question of the Day;

Have you ever been in a room with about 300 other people and feel like you are one of the few who are in on the joke?

Love you Love you

Jess

Oh I wish I was a little bar of soap.......

I can not get that song out of my head. Do not ask me how or why it's stuck up in there, but it is, and now it will not go away. "Oh i wish i was a little bar of soap, bar of soap. I could slippy slippy slidey over Jessie big white hiney......" URGH!

So now maybe it'll be stuck in someone elses head too, and you can share in my misery.

Love ya like a fat kid loves cake!

-Jess

Bored Bored Bored

Have you ever been so bored that you feel clawing your eyes out would be more interesting than staring at the monitor for one more second?

That's how I feel right now.

-Jess

Birthday Cake

Just wanted to share the awesome cake my co-worker Tim had waiting for me this morning. I guess I guilted him into it, i swear i didn't mean to. It really made my day when i walked in and saw this cake and the card from everyone here at work.

Thanks Guys!

-Jess

There's Nothing like the smell of Cat Puke in the morning...

I forgot to mention that my temporary house guest has a very weird way of telling someone happy birthday. Hester the cat thinks that a surprise puddle of cat puke is a FABULOUS way to ring in my 31st year. As I stumbled off the couch this morning and headed for the kitchen for my morning Dr Pepper, there it was. Unfortunately I didn't see where it was. My foot however, found where it was right away. As my foot connected with the gooey mass of cat barf, my leg went up and out from under me, and down I went.

So thank you Hester. And right now, as we speak, Hester is wondering around outside, looking for the next family of chumps she can mooch of for a few weeks and shower with her warm gooey stink.

The little skank!

Jess

IT FOUND ME. 31 FOUND ME.

Darnit to heck. 31 has found me. I woke up this morning and there it was, sitting on my chest, staring me straight in the face and screaming "I gotcha". Oh well, I guess it was inevitable. 31 is now doing a little happy dance. Bastard.

I've already received some love from some of my family and I want to thank you guys. Thanks Mom, Grandma, Julie, Butch, and of course THE Beth. Beth, no one can do a Grandpa Hettel wrap job quite like you. You rock. And I'm gonna burn that birthday candle tonight and then blow it out while singing myself the happy birthday song, over and over and over again. Tee Hee!

Thank you to my friends ( i only have a hand full, but one of you guys is better than 10 "sort of" friends). You remembered to tell me Happy Birthday.

Amanda, thanks for taking care of me Saturday, I really appreciate it.

I LOVE YOU ALL!

-Jess

HILARIOUS VIDEO

Take a few minutes to laugh your ass off at this short video. I almost peed my pants listening to the guy behind the camera laughing.

-Jess

COUNTDOWN TO THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF MY 30TH BIRTHDAY

It's closing in. 31 years is coming to claim me. I can hear it calling my name as it inches ever closer to my aging body. I still feel young. I still feel like a teenager trapped in a grown-up world. I still feel like I'm pretending to know what I'm doing and what I'm talking about, when in fact, I have abso-freakin'-lutely no idea what I'm doing or what I'm talking about. My kids think I'm so smart (well Max does, Grace knows way more than I do) and can do no wrong. Poor little saps, thinking their Mama actually knows what in the heck she's doing.

Woe is me, right? Right! I know it's not really that big of a deal, but aging sucks. I'm just going to pretend there is no such thing as a birthday. Maybe if I ignore it, it will just go away. If i pretend like it's not there, be very very quiet, maybe it won't be able to find me. Maybe 31 will come to claim me, calling out, "Jessie, Jessie where are you?", and I'll be hiding so 31 will just have to give up and go home.

What do you think?

-Jess

Fun Game

Click on this link and play the game, you can't understand the instructions, so i've included some of my own:


How old is your brain? This will drive you nuts.
The site instructions are in Japanese, so read below! 1. Touch 'start' 2. Wait for 3, 2, 1. 3. Memorize the number's position on the screen, then click the circle from the smallest to the biggest number. 4. At the end of game, computer will tell you the age of your brain. 5. Forward the message and type your age in the subject line.
Forward it to your friends . Good luck !

http://flashfabrica.com/f_learning/brain/brain.html

Obama

I know there are probably alot of very unhappy people today, but I am not one of them. I am very happy that Obama will be our president. I have alot of hope, and I haven't had much hope in any of the presidents before.

I'm so proud to be an American today, knowing that we have the privilege to vote and the chance to make our world better for our children.

I VOTED

It's election day! Go Vote if you haven't already! This is the first time i can ever remember being excited about an election. WHOO HOO

The BEST people I know....

My Aunt Julie, and my Mom Nancy. These are two of the most awesome women you can ever imagine. Women in our family seem to have been blessed with having pretty crappy things happen to us. With out going into details, almost all of us have been through a lot of really bad stuff. But My Aunt Julie, she's always smiling, and Mom is always there for anyone who needs her. I know that I don't know what I'd do with out either of them in my life.

For a long time, Julie lived far away with her husband Butch (aka Jackson Guice famous Comic Book Artist) and their incredibly wonderful daughter "The Beth". She's so wonderful she deserves a The in front of her name, because she is The One and Only. This past summer, they came "home". My Aunt Julie now lives two blocks away from me, and I can hardly remember a time when she wasn't near. It's almost like something was missing before, and now it's not. I know my Mom feels the same way.

Recently, Julie gave one of her kidneys to my Uncle Bob. (Also another wonderful person who I love very much). I just can't tell you how proud I am of her. Not everybody would do that, but she did, without a second thought. When I think of Aunt Julie I think of a big giant bear hug and loud contagious laughter that fills me with joy.


My Mama. Where do I begin? She just is awesome. She's been a mother to so many more people than just her kids. She'd do anything for anyone and has proven that time and time again. She's always shown me nothing but love and is proud of me, despite all the crap I've managed to screw up in my life. We were dirt poor growing up, especially after she left my biological father. He was a piece of crap who did more damage to people who he supposedly loved than you would think is humanly possible. Anyway, even though we didn't have much, I never cared. It never really bothered me, as long as we had her. She made sure we had what we needed, and worked hard to keep us safe. She would tell me over and over again, "Yes Jessie, everything is going to be all right" and she never got frustrated with me, even though it was the 20th time I would have asked her in 20 minutes. To this day, I'll ask her if everything is gonna be OK, and she tells me it will be, without complaint. And when she tells me, I believe her.

OK guys, that's my sap for the day. Actually, that's enough sap for the next several weeks. Don't know what made me get all mushy like that but it's creeping me out.

I love you guys!

-Jess

Some of my favorite pics

Many of you may know, that I LOVE to take pictures, more than anything I think. There's something great about capturing a moment on film, especially those unguarded moments of children. I'm including a few of my favorites. I have a ton more, and when I get the chance I'll go through them and post them. Hope you enjoy.

-Jess

Bag of Jelly Beans

Hello all 4 of you who read my blog! I hope all is right in your world today. Mine, not so much, but that is just the way it is. It could be worse, I guess. I used to work with a lady who would tell me that on a regular basis, only she would kind of sing it in this really irritating Glenda-The-Good-Witch kind of way. I really wanted to punch her.

But, it could be worse. I'm divorced, that sucks, but i wanted the divorce, so i can't really complain too much. My kids are ten times happier now then they were before, and my ex really loves his kids. We have shared parenting, which sucks in one major way, I miss the kids terribly when they're at their dads for a few days. But, he is an equal partner in the parenting department and the kids love him. I remember once, a week after Gracie was born, my friend Gina came over to visit. She and i were sitting downstairs and I noticed that Max, who was 2 and 1/2 at the time, had produced some very foul smelling toxic waste in his diaper. I asked Andy if he could bring me a diaper and some wipes, instead he brought down the diaper and proceeded to change Max. Gina was in SHOCK. You would have thought she'd just witnessed a miracle, or had a vision of the Virgin Mary. She looked at me and said that her ex would have NEVER EVER done anything like that. She couldn't believe a man actually changed a diaper. And when i told her that he did the laundry and the dishes, AND cleaned the toilet, i think she may have "crossed over' for a minute or two and may have even seen the Face of God. I was in shock. I couldn't understand not sharing the responsibility of your kids with your partner. I was very lucky, and still am, even though we are not together. Andy is married again and has a beautiful son named Gabe and he's happy. I'm so glad for him, but I'll admit I'm a teeny bit jealous, not jealous as in i want to be with him, jealous that he has found someone to share his life with and has a cute as a button baby, since we're being honest. So yeah, it could be worse, i know i know.

So on to a new topic. A bag of jelly beans. That's what I've decided Grace is going to be for Halloween. At first she was mad, because of course she wanted to be a princess, or Hanna Montana. But you know what, A bag of jelly beans costs about 2 bucks, and the princess/Hanna Montana monstrosity would probably end up costing me 30. When i was young, we were flat broke, and none of our costumes were ever store-bought. My Mom made them all and i wish I had some pictures to post of my brothers and sister and I. We had some fun with those costumes. My brothers were a pair of dice one year, made from two cardboard boxes and some paint. My sister was Raggedy Anne, sewn by my mom out of old pieces of fabric and material lying around, and me? I was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (foam and some felt) one year, and a bag of jelly beans another. These are just a few examples, i could go on and on, and i know you don't want me to do that.

I can't tell you how excited I am to make Grace a bag of jelly beans, to live vicariously through my daughter via her Halloween costume. I've got the clear plastic bag at the ready, but for some reason i haven't been able to find the stupid small balloons needed to fill it with. I've got a ribbon to use at the top and some very cute multicolored tights, but i can't find the DAMN balloons. I need the little ones, kind of like water balloons. Well duh, not kind of like water balloons, i need water balloons. But don't worry, they'll be filled with air, not water. Why am i saying all of this? I just realized this is totally pointless and not in the least bit interesting to read. But, since very few people read my blog, i guess it's OK. I think I probably re-read it more than anyone actually reads it anyway. Yet another example of how sad my life is. (totally joking, sort of)

By the way, I'm not sure Grace really wants to be a bag of jelly beans, but guess who doesn't care? ME!

hehehehehehe (evil genius laugh)

-Jess

Don't have much to say today

Wish I had a funny story to tell, but today, my brain is just mush. I think I'm developing a cold or a sore throat or something. I feel like poop. I'm ready to go home and lay down in my bed for the remainder of the day. In fact, i was ready to do just that about 5 hours ago, 2 minutes after i got here.

I watched the movie The Happening last night. It was all right, i didn't think it really had too much of an impact on me, but OH BOY, the dreams i had last night were crazy. It started out with a young guy who was 21 who i was "dating", my Mom was yelling at me, telling me how wildly inappropriate it was. I was yelling back, telling her I loved him, then we ran away and got married. Then I'm fast forwarded about 10 years, and I'm back and married to this guy, and we have a son. I don't know where Max and Grace were. Anyway, we have this kid, who's about a year old and as cute as a button, but my "husband" has started losing his mind. Something starts happening like what happened on the movie. It was just chaos. We were trying to run from this thing that was going on, and he was waving around a gun and throwing bullets at people. But the funniest part was that i kept thinking how good the sex was and I wish he wasn't going loony. I can't remember what he looked like, just that I wanted to do it with him and was bummed because I couldn't do it with a crazed lunatic waving a gun around.

Weird huh?

OK, maybe i did have more to say than I thought. That tends to happen to me, I start typing and out comes the babbling.

-Jess

Boogers

Can i ask a question? Well, that's not really a questions because I'm going to ask it anyway.

Why in the world do women; educated, well dressed, well paid, seemingly normal women insist on wiping their boogers on the walls in the bathroom stalls at my work?! I can't tell you the number of times I've sat down to "do my business" and I look over to find a nice large chunk of a crusty booger smeared across the side of the wall, two inches away from a toilet paper roll! TWO INCHES! COME ON! I'm talking BIG, and HARD, and probably so sharp that it could probably cut through someone's jugular if you're not careful.

I know we all do things in private that we wouldn't do in public. Everybody picks their nose. Everybody poops, and farts, and burps and scratches the crack of their ass when they think no one is looking. But for the Love of God, please please please, if you're gonna pick your nose, PUT IT IN A TISSUE, A PIECE OF TOILET PAPER, FLUSH IT DOWN THE TOILET! Just please don't wipe that nasty little hunk of nasal secretion on the wall for all to enjoy. Because I'm telling you, we don't enjoy it.

-Jess

The Tooth Fairy

Yesterday in the car on the way to dropping the kids off at school, Max and Grace were having a discussion about the Tooth Fairy. Max had lost a tooth and forgotten to check under his pillow before leaving for school. He made me promise not to touch his pillow, that if I made his bed I wouldn't move the pillow. (Make his bed?! Yeah Right!) Well, i promised i wouldn't touch his pillow so that his payment from the Tooth Fairy for his mangled, crusty, dirty little tooth would still be there when he got home.

Gracie, who is 6 and sometimes wise beyond her years, pipes up with her own thoughts. She said, "it doesn't really matter Max, because the parents are the one's who put the money under the pillows, they're really the Tooth Fairy." Max, was of course mortified, probably near tears trying to argue this with her. I asked her who had told her that, and she said "no one Mom, I just thought of it in my own brain (in her own brain!?), and it makes sense". "I just know it", she said. Well, it's hard to argue with that.

A Question.... Why do we, insist on telling our kids all these little "white lies" about fairies and Big Jolly Fat Men and Easter Bunnies on Growth Hormones? I'm not at all saying there is anything wrong with it. I loved the fantasy of knowing that Santa Clause would be sneaking in my house at any moment and if i could just stay awake for two more minutes, maybe I'd hear him, or catch a glimpse. Then waking up at 4 in the morning to the sound of Bing Crosby playing loudly on the record player, because that's what Santa like to put on before he left. The idea that my parents could possibly afford to do all of that just wasn't even an option, it had to be Magic.

I also remember the day my Mom told me the dreaded truth. I cried like i had just lost my dearest friend, while my sister snickered and tried not to fall out of her chair laughing in the next room. But luckily, my parents, especially my Dad, are still kids at heart, and even though we knew the truth about all the magical things we'd grown up believing in, they made sure there was still magic in our house. In fact, my father, to this day, insists that Santa Clause is real, and you know what, I'm inclined to believe in him too.

So, what to do? I've got a 6 year old who very obviously knows there isn't a tooth fairy, and will probably very soon make the connection to Santa and the Easter bunny as well. But, I've got an 8 year old son, tender-hearted and lovely, who will probably be crushed, just like I was, to find out the "truth".

This is going to be an interesting Christmas :)

-Jess

My FIRST broken heart at 30 years old!

Jeez do I miss him! For any of you who don't know (that would be just about EVERYBODY), i have a broken heart. I'm almost 31 years old, have two kids, one apartment, and am lacking one very major thing, HIM. He's gone. And I'm broken.

Let me start at the beginning, sort of......

I was married at 20, divorced at 27, and HIM came along around the time of my divorce. From the moment i saw him look up at me and grin, i was a goner. But, for all kinds of stupid reasons, we couldn't ever really make things work the way they were supposed to. Mostly due to third and fourth parties in the relationships (my ex, his HER) and so on and so forth. About two months ago, everything just stopped. Things started getting really hairy with him and a custody fight, and a lost job, (and all kinds of other fun stuff I won't mention), and I was sort of "let go". It just stopped, no texting, no calling, nothing. He's going through a horrible time (at least I think he is) and I guess I was the one thing he could cut out to make life easier.

I'm struggling. I loved him, and still do, with my whole heart. I've never had a broken heart before. I loved my ex-husband in a sort of brotherly-buddy type of way. I'd never loved anyone the way I loved/love HIM. I'm 31 years old and this is my first broken heart and it SUCKS. I pray for him, pray that he's ok. Then I'm mad at him for just leaving me out in the cold like this. I wonder if he ever really loved me at all? How could he have loved me, because it was so easy for him to just forget me.

I still cry everyday. It's been two months and I'm still crying every day. Some days are better than others, some days are worse. I see myself as the old crazy cat lady that all the neighborhood kids run screaming from. Someone will call Health Services or Animal Control because of the smell emanating from my tiny little shack and the cats pooping in every body's yard. And as they wheel me away, I'll still be crying over HIM. URGH.

I think about trying to talk to him all the time. I think about ways i could make him talk to me. I think about calling him and telling him I'm voting for Obama, that would really fire him up. :) I've still got a lot of his stuff. Maybe I'll call him and tell him I'm going to sell it all and keep the money to buy hookers. Maybe I'll burn it. I can't bring myself to empty his drawer, or stop sleeping on his side of the bed. I'm just at a loss. I'm just trying to get through my days. One foot in front of the other.

Thank GOD for my kids. They keep me going. Keep me breathing. Keep me from just collapsing and dying right there on the floor. They've seen me cry, and i know they're sick of it. I can't sniff with out one of them saying "Jeez Mom! Are you crying AGAIN?". Poor guys. They're so good to me. When I can't stop from crying in front of them, they're right there, patting my back and giving me a hug, telling me it's ok, he'll come back one day.

They miss him too. Grace has taken to wearing HIS t-shirt as a night gown, and Max will snuggle up on the couch with HIS hoodie to watch tv. But boy are they handling it soooo much better than I am.

I know it's probably stupid, and the 2 people who might actually read this blog are probably shaking your heads in disgust, but I'm still waiting for him. I still love him, and still have a little bit of faith that he'll come back to me, all better and all of his problems solved. I know it's a long shot, but for right now, it's what keeps me going.

You know what? I think I like this blogging thing.

I gotta go now. Gotta go see if my favorite blog, Dooce.com, has written anything new to lift my spirits.

Keep fightin' the good fight, and hug the one you love a little extra tighter tonight. Tell him/her you love them, and be glad.