Tuesday, February 28, 2006


I haven't been feeling all that great the past few days. I'm not sure what it is, I just don't feel right. You know that vague feeling of being sick, but not quite, like something is just waiting to jump you around the next corner and knock you on your ass. I'm sick of it too, sick and tired of being sick and tired. Sick of feeling like crap.

I'm supposed to be training for the Avon Breast Cancer Two day in May. I can't seem to manage getting on the treadmill for two consecutive days. I'm bordering on panic now. I'm so out of shape and if I'm going to walk a marathon and a half I need to get off my fat ass and get busy.

Other days I just don't seem to care...about anything. I can't even get out of my own way. I just want to give a big finger and elbow to the world and say "Bite Me!"

This has got to stop.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Not Dead Yet

I heard a rumor Saturday. My son was talking to a neighbor while shoveling our driveway again. This neighbor said he heard that the bad neighbors had to be out by March 10th. No idea what the reason was, but they will usually only evict for non-payment of rent. It's tough to evict someone just because they are inconsiderate pigs. They did evict another family because they were always in trouble with the police.

I'll believe it when I see it though. If it does happen, I will dance a jig on the roof of my house.

I worked from home last week (school vacation). All I can say is, I'm happy to be back at work. I ended up working about 10 hours a day - always checking E-mail. I felt like I couldn't sit down and relax or I'd be slacking off.

Son has a girlfriend. She's cute and seems very nice. They've been seeing each other a couple weeks now. I have suddenly turned into a taxi service. I'll post more about this later. I'm not sure my kid is mature enough for a girlfriend.

I've got some other stuff going on too, but that deserves a post of it's own.

I'd better get busy.

Friday, February 03, 2006

Mo Chuisle

It seems like all I do is piss and moan about my son, and you don't even hear the really bad stuff.

Occasionally, I get small glimpses of a tender and compassionate human being. Then his head spins around and he starts vomiting pee soup again.

Last weekend, we watched Million Dollar Baby. I had heard beforehand that it was a sad movie, so I was prepared. My son however, was not. When I saw the bad thing coming, I sucked in my breath and whispered "Oh NO." The boy sat quietly. Every time I glanced in his direction, his hat was hiding more of his face. The brim seemed to be devouring his whole head. I heard an occasional sniffle. Of course, I was openly bawling by that point. I grabbed some tissues and dropped a couple in his lap.

Towards the end, the sniffles became more frequent. When it was over, he immediately retreated to the cover of the bathroom. He must have blown his nose about 50 times, used up half a box of tissue. When he finally came out, I simply stated "That was so sad".

(He's going to make some lady very happy someday. They can cuddle on the couch and watch chick flicks together. Hey, at least I know he's not a sociopath - those were real emotions baby!)

He looked at me, his eyes puffy and red, and said "I'm never going to get over that!"

I laughed and said "Yea, it was a rough one. Pass me the envelope so I can send it back to Netflix".

He was practically shouting before I even finished my sentence, "Don't send it back! I want to keep it and see if I can bring it to my Dads this weekend". He may never get over it, but he's more than willing to put himself through it again.

"OK, fine." I answered. "Just don't count on it having the same effect on your father."

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Minimum Wage $$$

We stopped at the grocery store and an auto parts store, so my son could pick up job applications last night.

He's very excited at the prospect of getting a job and having his own money. He needs to save for his vehicle insurance on the used truck his father bought him for Christmas. Plus, gas and maintenance costs & actually having spending money. Cause you know Momma ain't paying for it!

My smile matched his giddy enthusiasm, for different reasons.

He's got visions of dollar signs and the millions he will make, oh the freedom he will have!

I can't wait until reality hauls off and bitch slaps him right in the forehead. Wait till he finds out he won't be getting paid like he was from his generous grandfather. Wait till he finds out how much things actually cost. Wait till he finds out what a money pit a used vehicle is. Wait till he finds out how far he gets on a gallon of gas.

Wait till he gets his first paycheck and sees sees the chunk good ole Uncle Sam takes out of his hard earned money.

Ah yes friends, it will be a great day when I can look at my sons tear filled eyes, smile and say, "Welcome to the real world son."

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Timely Telling

My son requested I drive him to school this morning....Because he wanted to go to detention.

Why do you have detention?

For using inappropriate language.

When were you going to tell me about this?

UM, this morning.

And, when did this happen?


What happened?

I was in the hall talking with some friends and the hall monitor heard us swearing.

I didn't ask what was said. I don't want to know what 4 teenage boys were talking about in the hallway between classes.

This morning I checked the school website. They have this nifty little site where parents can log in and view up-to-date grades, attendance, schedules and discipline. It's pretty cool, you can know immediately after attendance is taken if your kid has skipped school or not. Luckily, my son has not. Given the news of this morning, of course I checked in at the school site.

This incident happened on Friday. Do you think he would tell me about it Friday? Nooooooo, of course not. He didn't want to be punished over the weekend - even though he was visiting his father.

I told him that I was not driving him to school early (they can serve 1/2 detentions in the morning before school vs. A whole hour after school). I told him he would just have to stay late and take the late bus home to serve his detentions. His response was to mouth off and say "Well, then I just won't go, cause I am not staying late!"

We will see who wins this one. Wink.