Happy Halloween Mom and Dad! I Love You! I Really Do...

Conversation between my Dad and myself:

Me: "Hey Dad! Guess What! Kathleen has sent me some GREAT pictures of you and mom at Halloween!"

Dad: "Oh, that is nice."

ME: "Yeah! They are hilarious! I think I may save a few for when I really need to hold something over your head."

Dad: "Oh, that is nice."

Me: "I can't wait until Halloween so that I can post one of these!"

Dad: "Cristin Ann Cleaver! Don't you DARE post a picture of me from Halloween. Do you understand me? Am I making myself clear? You are NOT TO POST A PICTURE OF ME FROM HALLOWEEN ON YOUR BLOG!"

Me: "OK... relax. I won't. Is mom there?"

Dad: "I mean it young lady! You'll be sorry. Talk to your mother..."

Mom: "Hulooooooo"

Me: "Ma, I just asked Dad if I could post a picture of you guys in Halloween costumes on my blog and he FREAKED out!"

Mom: "Who is this?"

Me: "Mother! It is ME!"

Mom: "Oh... I'm sorry, I'm confused. Are you actually asking permission to do something? You mean you haven't already posted this picture and are calling to tell us about it? You are forewarning us?"

Me: "Well... I wasn't really asking permission... I was really just making conversation. It was either talk about the Halloween picture or discuss the bowel movements of Dad's dog."

Mom: "Well, you know as well as I do that it is easier to ask for forgiveness then it is to ask for permission."

Me: "You are so wise and powerful.

Mom: "Who is this?"

So, here is a picture from Halloween past. I can neither confirm nor deny that these are my parents... they could be my in-laws. You never know.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Two Can Play At That Game...

This ad cost me 4 million dollars. I think it is worth every penny.

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Rachel Ray Caused Our Economic Slump...

The other day I was walking through a Gordman's. If you don't know what a Gordman's is... think Marshalls, but without the hoards of racks of clothes that have been picked over, tossed on the ground and left there for everyone to trample.

I was walking through looking for some Autumn decor for my home that would be cheap, but not look cheap. Something that would make me look like I am an interior designer without spending an arm and a leg. Anything that did not scream "I can only afford Wal Mart!" In my pursuit for false airs, I found myself in the kitchen aisles. Now, you should know that I am a kitchen dish whore. Maybe not all dishes... mostly just bowls. I don't know where this addiction comes from but if I see a cute serving bowl I just have to have it! I can't stop myself. Actually, I know exactly where this addiction comes from... it comes from my father. My dad cannot walk past a garage sale without buying up all of the kitchen dishes they are selling for a quarter. When my parents moved from the Chicago area to Atlanta I think I packed no less then 1000 cute bowls and kitchen dishes . He also has a love for the most god-awful knick-knacks one can find. Need a little dog holding a balloon in his teeth? He has it. Can't find that one little girl with a missing shoe? He has that one too. What about blue birds? Bears? Kitty cats and mice? He's got you covered... and they have somehow found their way onto all of my parents window sills. I call it "They Can't Help Themselves, They Are Old" decor.

Anyway, as I was ogling all of the kitchen bowls I saw this: It is a Rachel Ray Trash Bowl.

What the hell? A trash bowl? I will have you know that this trash bowl cost $14.99 at Gordman's... that means that it retails for at least $21.99 elsewhere. Now, who the hell does Rachel Ray think she is?

No wonder people can't afford their mortgages! They are off buying stupid crap like a TRASH BOWL! I personally just use the plastic bag that my produce comes in, or I just use my GARBAGE DISPOSAL!

What a waste. Get it... waste. HA!

I couldn't stand Rachel Ray and her 30 minute meals before this... which by the way, don't get me started on her 30 minute meals. If I had a crew of people sorting out all of my ingredients and I moved at warp speed and did not have 4 children asking me questions, demanding my attention and having to put at least one tourniquet on a limb at least once a week while I was trying to prepare dinner, I would be done in 30 minutes as well. Rachel Ray needs to get real. She needs to have my kids in her studio while she is fixing dinner... and if she can do it in 30 minutes and still make things like salmon with mint sauce and not hot dog with a can of BBQ beans... well then I will buy her damn trash bowl. But until I see something that would even slightly resemble my life, I ain't buyin' it!

*Bowing-winking-waving* Thank you... Thank you very much.

Please... if you have purchased a trash bowl and are brave enough to leave a comment, I strongly encourage you to tell me how this has made your life easier. How has this trash bowl lightened the load of making dinner for the masses. How has purchasing this bowl made you more at peace with cooking dinner 7 nights a friggen week to little ungrateful people. Please tell me! I want to know! If you can show me the light... I may just drink the kool-aide and go buy one of these things. If you can't tell me how wonderful you dinner making chore is now that you have a trash bowl that you actually PAID for-well then, I may just make fun of you. It is up to you-c'mon leave a comment!

We All Knew It Was Bound To Happen...

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The Good... The Bad... The PMS

Things That Do Not Go Well With PMS:

1. Husbands who are deployed.
2. Children.
3. Having to talk to people in general.
4. The bathroom scale.
5. Mirrors.
6. My hair... I think I may just cut it all off the next time I am PMSing.
7. People who drive on the same road as me.
8. Telemarketers.
9. People who are happy for no apparent reason.
10. Diets

Things That Go Well With PMS:

1. Potato chips
2. Bread.
3. Chocolate.
4. Sad Movies (I recommend Steel Magnolias)
5. All of the food in your pantry, cupboards and fridge.
6. Did I mention bread?
7. Screaming at the top of my lungs... my mother used to yell "GOD BLESS AMERICA!!!"
8. I said bread right?
9. Locking yourself in the bathroom for no less then 30 minutes.
10. Crying... crying is really really good for PMS. Crying while you are eating bread is even better.

Living The Simple Life...

Well, at least my version of the simple life.

Since it is October, that means that Thanksgiving is right around the corner. Thanksgiving is great and all, but I personally think it is a day in which I have to survive in order to get to black Friday. My favorite holiday of the year. The holiday in which I go stand in line outside of a Target or Toys R Us or the mall at 3 a.m. in order to do all of my Christmas shopping for everyone and be home in time for lunch. It is a glorious day-one that I look forward to with great anticipation. I love getting all of the my shopping out of the way so that I can spend Advent actually focusing on Advent and not on my shopping list.



Well, this year my husband has informed me that I need to tighten the belt a little. Blech. Can't I just live and pretend that we are rich? Oh wait... that is what got America into the situation we are in. We were greedy and now we are tightening our belts. You all knew it was going to end up like this. We couldn't go on living like we were Paris Hilton every day of our lives forever.



All morning I have been tightening the belt around here. I called our insurance company and took all coverage off of my husband's truck (except for liability) while he is gone. That was an easy phone call to make because when they told me our savings I had visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. Also, this does not directly affect me so it was simple... living simple, it is what I am all about.



Then I called our mobile phone carrier (didn't I sound Bri-ish just then? "I'll ring your mobile." Oh how I love the Brits and the way they talk. Swoon.) and I disconnected my husband's mobile (I think we should all call our cell phones our mobiles today... and make sure you say it with a Bri-ish accent. A salute to our proper friends) since he is deployed and his mobile has been sitting in our cupboard (notice I said cupboard instead of cabinet... if I keep this up I am going to have to apply for dual-citizenship) turned off. Why do I need to pay for a mobile that is not mobiling at all? That savings make me pull my favorite Christmas CD out of storage and I have been listening to it ever since. Man I love how that drunk lady sings the Twelve Days of Christmas. Again... this does not directly affect me as it is my husband's mobile (Relax all of you Military Supporters out there! I'll turn it back on when he gets home. Sheesh.)



Now, my last phone call was a tough one. It actually hurt me. My last phone call was to the cable company. Sniff... sniff. I cancelled all of our movie channels. That is right... we had all of the movie channels. Want to make something of it?



This is where you all come in. If I think about this too much I will have an anxiety attack so you must promise to do something for me... you must promise to alert me when you find out when the season 3 of The Tudors is coming back on Showtime. Don't ask questions... just email me post hast. I will call the cable company again and order only Showtime and when the season is over I will cancel it again. See? Easy. I am so good at saving money.




So what plans do all of you have for saving money? Anyone selling a kidney so you can buy little Timmy an XBox this year? Anyone living on rice and beans, beans and rice? How about the family dog? Thinking of selling Rover? What about your youngest child? They whine and cry anyway right? How do you tighten your belts? Inquisitive minds want to know... so does Congress.

The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions...

This morning I woke with bounding joy and energy. OK, that was a lie. I don't think I have ever in my life woke with bounding energy... more like "Crap, is it morning already? What day is it? Do I have children? How did I get so fat? Is that a baby I hear crying? Why are people calling for MOM? Is it too early to eat leftover cake? I hate mornings."

I do however have joy in the morning... at least that is what all the sweet old ladies tell me at Church. They look at my children and say "What joy you must have in your heart." It is true... I do have joy in my heart. I am just not sure if it comes from the children who have sprung forth from my loins or from the leftover cake I had for breakfast.

ANYWAY... this morning I woke up and decided to start making lists. When I start making lists that means that I am about to go all cleaning lady up in here (I am so hip hoppy-even when I am not trying.) I am about to get out my bucket o' cleaning supplies and scrub and wipe until my neighbor calls to ask if I am cleaning because she can see a mushroom cloud of bleach fumes hovering above my house.

Well... it has not worked out quite the way I planned today. First my sister called, and then I had to call my other sister and discuss everything that the other sister said, and then my dad called to tell me that his dog would not go outside to poop and he has been yelling at the damn thing all morning. Oh, and his Christmas cactus is starting to bloom Then I decided to change the ink cartridges for my printer so that I could print more pictures that will ultimately end up in a shoebox with all of the other pictures that I swear will one day be in photo albums with cute captions and squiggly lined decorations (you should know that I have completed a total of two scrapbooks in my entire life. Both were done before I had children. I think I am too cynical to make happy scrapbooks. It is a curse) Then I put the baby to bed and made lunch for the 5 year old which she did not like so I decided to eat her lunch as well as my own. And now I am heading to pick up the older kids from school and that will lead into homework and evening activities and a dinner that my 5 year old will refuse to eat...

So my bucket o' cleaning supplies are sitting in my bathroom waiting to be used. My shower is crying out to be cleaned, my toilet is begging for a little fresh air and my sink is pleading to have the concrete toothpaste chiseled off of it, but it will have to wait for another day. I cannot even guarantee it will be tomorrow that I get around to cleaning my bathroom. Cleaning a bathroom is something that you have to wake up and want to do... not something that you can just willy-nilly decide to do on a whim. There are certain clothes that need to be worn for bathroom cleaning day and your hair needs to be up in a ponytail. I mean, why would I clean my bathroom after I did my hair and put make up on? That would be like dating someone from the wrong side of the tracks, taboo, weird, just not right.

Maybe I'll just go in and spray the cleaner on the walls of the shower real quick... and squirt a little in the toilet and take a Lysol wipe to the sink. That should buy me some time don't you think? Lord only knows when I will wake up and want to clean again... it could be weeks, even months!

Most likely it will be tomorrow because who am I kidding? I cannot stand a dirty bathroom... why, it was just 3 days ago that I scrubbed the floors until my fingers bled.

Being a housewife is hard I tell you... hard.

Speaking OF High School Loves...

Has anyone seen the new television program "My Own Worst Enemy" with Christian Slater? If you have not... go to hulu.com right now and watch the first two episodes to catch yourself up. You won't be sorry.

When I was in high school I had a huge crush on Christian Slater. I saw him in movies like "Heathers," "Pump up the Volume," "Untamed Heart," and my personal favorite "Bed of Roses."

I liked his voice, I liked the way his one eyebrow would lift when he spoke, I liked the way he was a rebel, and I liked the way he was a high school dropout (hey, I can't help it... there was something about bad boys that sent me over the edge and my mother straight to our Parish Priest for advice.)

Now Christian is back with this new television drama, and he is a middle aged man. Now, some of you may know that middle aged men make me weak in the knees. My husband is a middle aged man and that just turns me on. I don't know why... it could be because I am a middle aged (well, ALMOST a middle aged) woman.

The great thing about this show is that Christian plays a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde type of character. On one side you have the family man who is a good father and faithful husband, and on the other side you have a bad ass that is out to rid the world of all things evil. Basically he is the epitome of what every woman wants... a solid man who has a hero streak in him.

You know... come to think of it, this TV show sounds a lot like my husband's life. I will be sure to watch the mailbox for our royalty check from NBC. They couldn't have found a better middle aged man to portray him-I'll have to remember to thank them.

Oh, and one last thing... Matthew McConaughey if you are reading this (which I am sure you check my blog-don't act like you don't) I want to ensure you that in no way are my affections turning from you and focusing on Mr. Slater. Although, I cannot guarantee anything if he starts walking around with his shirt off and takes up bongo playing.

Google Thinks You Are A Nobody...

Somehow I found myself in a very strange place today. I was alone and the house was quiet. I know... crazy. I did not know what to do with myself. I thought of doing some laundry or loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, but I quickly regained my lazy persona and decided to surf the web instead of actually doing something constructive. It is a rarity that I have a quiet house so I was not going to waste it by doing chores! Puleez!

I sat at my computer and thought... "what to do, what to do." I thought of things to write on this blog and came up with nothing (unless you wanted to read a post on the lady bugs that have invaded our house that aren't really lady bugs but their nasty orange cousins that fool us into thinking they are nice lady bugs.) I thought of balancing the checkbook, but that would fall under the "chore" category as well so I was not going there. I thought of browsing You Tube, but I have never really gotten into You Tube and if I did decide to browse it I would sit there are search for things like "new babies" or "puppies" and you know as well as I do that that would be a waste of my free time... and I would either end up at a Pet Store or buying ovulation kits so you can see that I need to avoid You Tube at all cost.

So I sat there poised, wondering what to do when I decided to start googling people from my past. I have never done this before... well, OK, maybe once of twice, but I have only googled my parents-which came up with something from the Irish Mafia that I quickly clicked off of because I have been trained since I was a child that you just don't question where the extra money comes from or why there is a severed finger in the freezer. I have also goggled my husband-which came up with nothing, my sisters-which again... nothing, and my in-laws which came up with stuff about Swiss Bank accounts that I made sure I saved to my favorites.

Today I started googling childhood friends, my high school boyfriends, and finally all of the people who were ever mean to me growing up... Ellen G, I am talking about you-where ever you are... either in jail or in Hollywood.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I would have thought that at least ONE person from my past would have been a huge success... but in the end I realized that they were all big disappointments. The saddest thing is that I saw how old I am getting. I cannot remember people's last names to save my life. It is very hard to google "John F-something, who lived on 86th St. I think and has a sister, or was it a brother, and a dad with the same name." Google gave me nothing on him. I did find one old boyfriend who I am happy to report was fat. That made me feel better after I read that he is part of some "Millionaire Club."

Finally I googled myself. Apparently I am a nobody as well since Google has no idea who the hell I am. What does this stupid computer know anyway.

What about you? Go Google yourself and see what you discover. I bet you may just be a professional football player or a underground musician and you didn't even know it!

His Wish... My Command

Go read this... Let me get this straight…

He says it better then I ever could. Bravo!