We're under a winter weather warning in Central Texas right now. By all accounts, this is not a time for anyone to drive unless absolutely required to by their jobs. You know, the vital occupations, like hospital workers, police officers, restaurant employees, bankers, realtors...
Hang on. What's that? Restaurant employees and bankers are NOT vital occupations? Could have fooled my husband, dad and sister. It seems the head honchos at Shawn and Ninny's respective facilities find it important, nay mandatory, that their locations be open to the, say, 5 people who actually may be retarded enough to head out in the ice to apply for a loan or stop in for some tasty barbecue. And Dad? Well, his VIP client from Cali is in town, and finds it essential to preview some of the Hill Country's icy roadways and the homes they feed.
Who says Americans don't know how to prioritize their morals and values?
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Monday, January 15, 2007
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Long Time No See
So, in case you haven't heard (although judging by your knowledge of the existence of this blog, I'm pretty sure you have), I got screwed by Blogger/Google. They'd been nagging me to switch to the new beta version, ensuring me that it would be newer, better, and whiter with just a couple of clicks. Everything would basically remain the same, but with 5.1 megapixel HD Soy goodness. Or something.
I switched. I switched, and now you are reading chunkyrhino via my other, more personal blog (personal as in just about Amy, not personal- dear diary- thoughts. I don't have those, and if I did, they wouldn't be anything I hadn't already written about on chunkyrhino. Here, I just cuss more and don't talk as much about the kids.
Things have been rocky at our house lately. It's all very,If Momma Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy.
Chalk it up to long hours, holiday dieting, the "wretched,horrible,why- wasn't-I-told?"-four's, and an amazingly adorable little boy who is damn lucky that he's cute, because otherwise he would packing his bags by now.
It's just been tantrums, pouting, screaming, kicking...and that was just me.
We trimmed the tree last night; I had been all set and ready to have a warm Martha Stewart holiday evening, so of course, Jax threw a fit, the camera's battery died as we were trying to take Christmas card pics, and Shawn fell asleep. Badumbum.
I re-did some of the rooms. Took doors off of closets, cleared the kids playroom, added kitchens, tables, dressers and vanities. I'm sure none of you care, but I had fun. I might even post pics -- just to piss Lea Ann off.
Jaxson has discovered his funny bone, favoring the hats/glasses bit. He demands you look at him wearing glasses/ sunglasses, fire chief's hats, tiaras, purses... I was all beaming with pride, thinking something from me had finally shown through in Jaxson, when Shawn decided to inform me that he did the exact same thing as a toddler.
Naturally.
Ryan will be getting her driver's license soon. Apparently, her 15-yr-old self has come to visit us like Scrooge's Ghost of the Future -- and, Bob Crachet, the future BLOWS.
She's still a sweetheart that loves to love (and be loved), but she's just less likely to, ummmm, obey.
She flat-out refuses to do what she doesn't want to do. Just spurts "No" to my face like I was Harry Potter (who, by the way, she would NEVER say "No" to, but you get the idea). So the fits and fights have been hectic, grounding Ryan for the week from any playdates, and not letting her go to her friend's birthday party. The wails were monumental, and the "I don't love you, I want to leave" screams hearken back to memories from my teenage years. I hate this age. I want to be 5.
Along with hamming it up, Jax has become increasingly needy over the past few days. I don't know if he's teething or what, but it has become a huge ordeal. He has spurts where he won't even go with Shawn or Ryan, which is pretty inconvenient as I'm frying bacon. (But the snuggly, hug-on-mommy moments are pretty cool.)
Other than that, Shawn and I aren't speaking right now. Something about me being a bitch.
He's right, but I like to hold my ground a few days, just to get some pent-up emotion out.
You know what I mean.
I switched. I switched, and now you are reading chunkyrhino via my other, more personal blog (personal as in just about Amy, not personal- dear diary- thoughts. I don't have those, and if I did, they wouldn't be anything I hadn't already written about on chunkyrhino. Here, I just cuss more and don't talk as much about the kids.
Things have been rocky at our house lately. It's all very,If Momma Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy.
Chalk it up to long hours, holiday dieting, the "wretched,horrible,why- wasn't-I-told?"-four's, and an amazingly adorable little boy who is damn lucky that he's cute, because otherwise he would packing his bags by now.
It's just been tantrums, pouting, screaming, kicking...and that was just me.
We trimmed the tree last night; I had been all set and ready to have a warm Martha Stewart holiday evening, so of course, Jax threw a fit, the camera's battery died as we were trying to take Christmas card pics, and Shawn fell asleep. Badumbum.
I re-did some of the rooms. Took doors off of closets, cleared the kids playroom, added kitchens, tables, dressers and vanities. I'm sure none of you care, but I had fun. I might even post pics -- just to piss Lea Ann off.
Jaxson has discovered his funny bone, favoring the hats/glasses bit. He demands you look at him wearing glasses/ sunglasses, fire chief's hats, tiaras, purses... I was all beaming with pride, thinking something from me had finally shown through in Jaxson, when Shawn decided to inform me that he did the exact same thing as a toddler.
Naturally.
Ryan will be getting her driver's license soon. Apparently, her 15-yr-old self has come to visit us like Scrooge's Ghost of the Future -- and, Bob Crachet, the future BLOWS.
She's still a sweetheart that loves to love (and be loved), but she's just less likely to, ummmm, obey.
She flat-out refuses to do what she doesn't want to do. Just spurts "No" to my face like I was Harry Potter (who, by the way, she would NEVER say "No" to, but you get the idea). So the fits and fights have been hectic, grounding Ryan for the week from any playdates, and not letting her go to her friend's birthday party. The wails were monumental, and the "I don't love you, I want to leave" screams hearken back to memories from my teenage years. I hate this age. I want to be 5.
Along with hamming it up, Jax has become increasingly needy over the past few days. I don't know if he's teething or what, but it has become a huge ordeal. He has spurts where he won't even go with Shawn or Ryan, which is pretty inconvenient as I'm frying bacon. (But the snuggly, hug-on-mommy moments are pretty cool.)
Other than that, Shawn and I aren't speaking right now. Something about me being a bitch.
He's right, but I like to hold my ground a few days, just to get some pent-up emotion out.
You know what I mean.
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