It's my party and I'll be bossy if I want to.

I know. I know. It's been a while. A girl gets busy. What can I say? While you work on forgiving me, I'll tell you a little story about my soon to be 6-year-old.

Hubs is out of town so the 6-year-old slept with me last night. This will only work a little while longer as the 2-year-old is starting to catch on to this routine and soon I'll have two little monsters trying to beat me to death in my sleep.

Any who, the 6-year-old woke up this morning mid-sentence telling me he wants the game "Operation" for his birthday. His birthday is a little over a month away. He's been talking about it for the last two months. Telling me daily what he wants for his birthday.

Essentially, the items on his wish list include all toys sold in a store, advertised in catalogs or on television...that aren't pink. We received the Toys R Us toy catalog in the mail several weeks ago and he goes through it every day circling new toys with each passing day and telling me how amazing and how much he wants all of these items.

The hubby and I have tried explaining to him that he is not going to get every item he circled in the catalog for his birthday. His reply:

"I know. I'll get some of these things for my birthday, some for Christmas and the rest for Easter."

Oh, the joys of having no concept of money. What a blissful world that must be.

Later, in the car on the way to school he was talking about his birthday party.

Cody: "I want a Lego Batman birthday party."

Me: "What do you do at a Lego Batman birthday party."

Cody: "There will be legos out on the tables and everyone has to build something as fast as they can."

Me: "Oh, that sounds like fun." (sarcasm)

Cody: "Then they will have to bring what they made to me so I can see if they are good enough."

Me: "Sounds to me like you'll be asking for friends for your 7th birthday."

Stress Dream

I had a dream last night that I had a 4th kid.

Editors Note: I currently only have two kids so I don't know where my 3rd kid was in my dream. However, I have often said that if I had a third kid it is likely that I would forget him or her at the hospital as my negligence grows with each child.

So in this dream I had a 4th child. I couldn't remain at the hospital after I had the child because I had to run my current two children somewhere so the hubby stayed back with the child. The next morning I woke up and realized I didn't even know my new son's name. (Yes, I had a boy. Even in my dreams I can't make myself have a girl.) So I woke hubby up (still in my dream, not in reality) to find out what he named our child. He couldn't remember either, however we had paperwork from the hospital that contained this information so we flipped open the folder. Dylan Sullivan.

Hubby said he named him Dylan because Dylan McKay from 90210 always had good head of hair and he thought this would guarantee our new son would never go bald. I don't know where Sullivan came from and he didn't explain. I said I wasn't crazy about the name Dylan, but I liked Sullivan and thought we should call him Sully. Should it be spelled Sully or Sullie? No, I think it is Sully. Of course there's always Sulley. No, that's dumb. I'm sticking with Sully.

Changing his name to something we both liked seemed like a lot of effort and who likes doing paperwork?

Hubby didn't like Sully so we decided he would call him Dylan and I would call him Sully.

The end.

Editors Final Note: I'm not pregnant. 

Too hot for the hot tub.

Oh dear friends, we meet again. It's been a good fortnight or two since I've last blogged.

Alright, enough with the accent. I have things to complain about. Specifically this hot-as-hell weather. Someone please call the Waaa-mbulance because I'm hot and cranky and whiney. Temps over 100 degrees are ridiculous and everyone should receive the day off to just let all their fat hang out in the privacy of their own home. When that doesn't happen they let all their fat hang out where I can see them. Plus I've become annoyed by the sound of my own flip flops. I made the mistake of wearing wedges the other day and I think I actually lost consciousness for a moment when I took them off due to the horrendous stench.

My kids have a BMI of -2% so they aren't nearly as affected by this heat which means they want to play outside 24/7. When I try to play with them outside, they complain that I take up all the space in the kiddy pool. Well, fuck me. It's too hot out to not be submerged in water. Go fend for yourselves! Grow bigger so you can fight me off. Until then, I'm the queen of this kiddy pool!

Plus the heat makes everyone so irritable. Well, it is either that or the constant stream of political posts on Facebook.

And there are all these crazy fires in Colorado and terrible hurricanes in Florida. Guess I shouldn't complain about the usual hot temps in the Midwest, but this is my blog and I can do what I damn well please. Don't like it? Stop reading it.

Okay, don't stop reading it. I need you to read it to justify my existence. Who else is going to do that? My husband? My kids? Bitch, please.

For real though, how is it that man has managed to create something as amazing as an iPhone, but we haven't evolved enough as a society to figure out how to put out a fire? Doesn't that seem like something we should have figured out by now? Can't you buy a fire extinguisher at Walmart? I know I have a good gallon of water collecting under my breasts right now. I'd be happy to dump it on the fire. I've seen footage of these huge flames that are miles and miles wide, and then there is a little plane flying over it with essentially the equivalent of an old man peeing on the fire. Really? That's all we've got? Is that really the best we can do?

I'd solve all the world's problems today, but it is just too damn hot. Maybe when we're under triple digits I can do some more good for my community. Until then it's probably better to keep a safe distance away.

Lesson of the Day

I worked at a garage sale today. The proceeds benefitted my oldest's school. This garage sale was just one of many throughout the neighborhood. I always enjoy having garage sales because the garage sale clientele is so versatile. Every walk of life shops garage sales and it is always interesting to see and talk to them all.

There are the people that come just to check out your stuff and judge you. They don't typically talk to you too much. There are the people that are hoarders and are buying such an array of items that you know they have six more of all of these in their car. There are the people that come just to talk and not to shop. These people are full of free advice about an array of topics. Today my garage sale partner learned from a nice older gentleman how to turn her Hydrangeas blue.

Here are the two most important things I leanred today:

#1. I understand why there is the rule: no shirt, no shoes, no service as there were many people that came through the garage sale without shoes. I don't know if they lived in the neighborhood or came by car, but obviously shoes were too stiffling for them and were deemed unnecessary.

#2. I put my youngest's high chair in the garage sale. He's moved onto a booster seat at the kitchen table and I was tired of cleaning up all the crevices of his high chair. It was the type of high chair that straps onto a chair and pulls up to the table and a tray attaches to it. A couple came through the garage sale with a baby and decided to buy the high chair. According to them it would be perfect to take to the race track with them because they get tired of holding the baby. I thought the cutest thing about the family was how they all matched so much. Mostly just in their number of teeth, but still it was cute.

What have you learned from garage sales?

To whom it may concern.

Dear Sir or Madam,

A co-worker picked me up a bagel from Panera this morning. You were in front of my co-worker and paid for our order. Thus, you bought my breakfast this morning. To that I say, you are fucking awesome. Yes, I can afford the few dollars my breakfast would have cost me, but your generosity was a welcome surprise. So please accept my gratefulness.

The only problem is now I have this guilt to "pay it backward" to someone else. I'm not a fan of feeling guilty. I'm neither Catholic nor Jewish so this feeling of guilt is not a daily occurrence for me. To coincide with that, I'm also a cheap bitch so now I need to figure out the cheapest place I can drive thru for lunch so as to hopefully incur the smallest debt possible.

Sincerely,
4th Gear Molly

A change will do you good.

My office is in the midst of a move. My oldest is graduating from pre-school and tonight we're attending a Kindergarten 101 class to meet his new teacher and see his classroom. My youngest is about to turn the big 02.

Makes me think maybe I should make a big change. I could color my hair a radical color. Maybe be a red head. I don't know if I'm the right kind of crazy to be a red head. Maybe go Platinum? My tits aren't perky enough to be a platinum blonde. I could chop a ton of hair off. Except I'm not a lesbian.

Hmmm. What to do. What to do.

Maybe I'll just poop in a public restroom today.

First Kiss

Last night my 5-year-old told me he had a secret to tell me, but I couldn't tell Daddy. This was in front of the hubby of course because whether you are 1 or 100, the best part of having a secret from someone is them knowing you have a secret from them. So he came over to me to whisper in my ear. I expected it to be something like, "Optimus Prime is my favorite Transformer." or "I shot a bunny."

"Shooting a bunny" is code for farting in our house. Yes, it is necessary to have a code for farting. We're classy people. You don't just let one rip and laugh. You rip one and then say you shot a bunny.

Instead, my son whispered, "I kissed Emma." Emma is a girl in his class, also 5-years-old. Later in the evening he came clean to the hubby who got more information out of him about this kiss. Here's what we know.
 - It happened Friday.
 - On the playground.
 - It was both of their idea.
 - It was on the lips.
 - No one else was around.

I'm not upset about the kiss. I think it is funny and adorable. And I'm impressed he's already kissing girls. If I was kissing boys in pre-school, I don't remember it. I was much older when I had my first kiss.

Boys didn't become interested in me until the glasses became contacts, the braces came off, the Jehri curl mullet grew out and I learned to straighten my hair and my concave breasts became ample B cups almost overnight. So my first kiss didn't happen until an embarrassingly lot of years later.

I also don't believe this was his first kiss. I've seen him play kiss tag. He's not scared to pin a girl down and kiss her. These kinds of things are cute at 5. It will probably feel a little more criminal in ten years. So I just told him what any good mother would tell her son after he had his first kiss.

Play on, Playa!