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Thursday, September 28, 2017

WTF - But Officer!

We all know those drivers.

I'm talking about those drivers.

Not us.

Those drivers.

You're taking that leisurely drive home from the bar, the restaurant, the PTA meeting, the adult bookstore and there they are:

Sitting on your ass. Riding so close you feel like you should smoke a cigarette with them.

You check your speed, are you going to slow? No, you are the required 7 miles over the speed limit.

What the hell?

So what do you do? Pull over and let them by? That's what you should do, right?

Hell No, you slow down, of course. Don't hit the brakes yet, just slow down enough to really piss the jackass off.

So you drive a little slow, give them the stink eye in your rear view mirror (which they cannot see)  until you're tired of driving slow, right?

Then you decide you'll pull over, letting the jackass ahead of you and be done with it, right?


Pull over, give them the stink eye as they pass then let things go.

No, you decide you should now ride their ass. Let them feel your breath down their throat.

Until the cop lights come on behind you.

"Do you know why you were pulled over?"

"Was I speeding?"

"No, you were tailgating."

"What!?! Wait a minute! That jackass was tailgating me!" You point to the car fading into the distance.

"You are the only one I saw tailgating." (Showing him my Snapchat of jackass tailgater is out of the question, right?)

"Seriously, that black car up there with the Salt Life sticker rode my butt all the way down 105!"

"Now let's not get excited here, Just calm down."

Yelling at a cop, not the smartest decision here.

He walks back to his car, I'm waiting, I'm thinking if I ever see that damn black SUV with the Salt Life sticker on the back, I'm gonna have a word with them. Then I'm wondering what a "following too closely" ticket costs.

He comes back, "Everything checks out. Just don't tailgate, OK? Have a good night."

"Thank you officer."

So what lessons about human nature did we learn here? Don't tailgate? OK. Mentioning the term Jackass in front of a policeman is probably not a good idea? You got it.

Of course the most important one,

Always say thank you!

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

WTF - 30 Years? Really? How To Survive

Today marks the day - 30 years of marriage! I still think the day is wrong it was the 27th, but since we got a bottle of Angel's Envy engraved with 9/26/87 I'm going with it, right.

So how does marriage work? I thought I would share some blogs from the past years on how we do it!

Funny story about how our marriage works.  Jeff hates it when I waste money throwing away food.  So I bought a whole chicken with the intentions of cooking a gourmet meal for us (lemon, tyme, stuffing all the fixins) but I put the chicken in the bottom drawer of the fridge and promptly forgot about it.  (when's the last time YOU looked in the bottom drawer of your fridge) So a couple of weeks go by and I realize I forgot about the chicken by the smell.  What to do?  Rather than fess up, I go and bury the chicken in the bottom of the trash can and set it out for pickup.  Done deal, lecture averted right?

No, the next morning, we're getting ready and I'm shocked to see my husband running through the house in a business suit with two large white trashbags going up each arm.

"What's going on?"

He stops for a second, "You're not gonna believe this, but there's a raw chicken sitting in our front yard!"

I don't even pause, "How'd that get there?"

He walks out the door, "I don't know but I gotta get it before they think we're into some voodoo shit!"

So there you have it, a great way to keep your marriage happy.......ok, I fessed up as he came back in, but I couldn't help laughing through my confession.  Voodoo shit?  "Those Melangs, you know they've got raw chickens and I swear I smell incense....."

How do you survive 30 years?

Marriage - two people bound together by the same sense of humor.

For example:

Husband, Where do you want to go out to eat?

Me, Whatever you want to do.
Husband, Tacos?
Me, I don't feel like tacos.
Husband, "Pizza?
Me, Pizza is too greasy.
Husband, Hamburgers
Me, Hamburgers are too fattening.
Husband, what do YOU want to eat.
Me, Whatever, it doesn't matter.

My husband watches me work the straw of a a Cook Out Milkshake like a hooker at a bachelor party. After five minutes I realize he is staring at me, so I say, "What?" He shakes his head saying, "I've been cheated!"

Change to him blowing out half a lung blowing up balloons for a party, I look at his blood red sweaty face saying, "Don't hurt yourself, I'm not driving all the way to the hospital."

My husband walks in on me naked - on my hands and knees scrubbing the tub.  "Are you propositioning me?" He asks with a smile. "Of course not, I'm multitasking," I mutter.

My husband walks into the bedroom as I am scrambling underneath the covers with an "Ahhhh." "Are you propositioning me?" He asks. "No, not unless you want poison ivy," I mutter.

Coming up on that special wedding anniversary, I say, "We should get married again." Without skipping a beat he says, "To who?"

Some young buck in the neighborhood asks if I want my driveway shoveled of 16 inches of snow, I look at my hubby and say, "Oh no thanks, his insurance policy is up to date!"

In the middle of an argument, I caught myself saying, "You think I think I am always right - well, YOU'RE WRONG!" I can't remember what we were arguing about after that sentence. 

Husband: Are you going to share those cheese and crackers.

Me, looking at my plate silently counting the number of cheese and crackers.
Me, slowly sliding the plate away from husband.

You know you've been married a long time when part of your date night involves describing something disgusting in detail, and your hubby responds with a few more questions for clarity.

Child walk by with Hazmat diaper, he looked to me saying, "Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

Oh and of course my favorite saying, usually said at least once a day:

"Oh? Did I F*ck up again?"

So there ya have it, here's to not killing each other for 30 years and for another 30 more!

Have you ever had a chicken in your front yard?

Thursday, September 21, 2017


Dear Watauga County School System,

Have you been talking to Winston Salem/Forsyth County School System? Did they tell you that one time 6 years ago I missed an early release and had to pickup my children with curlers still in my hair?

This past Wednesday was a Teacher Development Day, I'm not sure what that means but for all us parents that means early release. And they are making sure the teachers enjoy that half day but starting early with us lame parents.

The first text came at 600am, interrupting my beauty sleep.

Reminder: Today is an early release day.

I know, I told my phone, rolling over in bed. After getting up and starting the morning routine, the second text came through, including the Spanish translation.

I know, I said again then adding Lo Se' for the Spanish translation.

As I was driving them into school two more reminders came across.

There was a big sign for the carpool line, "Don't forget early release today at noon!"

The final text ruining my savanna in yoga class to be there "on time" for early release day.

Seriously, I know!

Just as it came around time to go get them from school, I got another text:

"Have you left the house yet?"

Wait, what? then I realized it was a friend sending me the text.

Very funny, I know!

And now I'm running late, see what you did?

How can they be so organized and proficient telling us about early release but decide on a snow day ten minutes before we leave dressed and ready to go for carpool?

I know!

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

WTF - You're Doing WHAT with that Log?

It's fall ya'll and time to order our wood, no not my honey's wood, but firewood for the winter season. Because you need to season it before you use it, meaning putting it in a nice place to dry out!

So I order my wood, and it is the boys job to stack it in the garage. Doesn't seem that hard now does it?

Guess again.

I started two weeks ago telling them they need to stack the wood, and of course I get a "We'll get to it" answer back. These are the same kids complaining they don't have any money so I say, "There's a job right there for you, you just have to DO IT!"

Along comes Hurricane Irma and my wood is still sitting in the driveway! I tell them a hurricane is coming and they need to stack the wood otherwise it will get wet.

What do they do?

The take plastic tarps and cover the pile of wood pre Irma. Smart but really? Can't you just stack it?

After asking for another week, I become a screaming bitch about the wood and they look at me saying, "Mom, calm down. We're going to stack it right now."

They walk down to the pile of wood, coming back a minute later, "We can't stack the wood, there's no room in the garage."


"Move some of the stuff along the wall and stack it there," I reply knowing this was their way of getting out of stacking wood, but I'm on a mission now.

With the room prepared, I watch them each walk in with a SINGLE piece of wood thinking, "This is going to take all night, but hey, they're getting exercise."

Five minutes later I check on them and they're taking a "trampoline break!"

They see me revving up my screaming bitch mode and move from "trampoline break" to stacking wood.

I watch one of them throw a piece of wood into the woods.  What the hell? "It's too big and not stacking right," he says.

"It all burns the same way, go get that wood out of the woods and stack it to the side." They look at me as if I've lost my mind. Go get it? But they just threw it in the woods?

At this point they think the best way to do this is put the little brother in the garage stacking the wood while the two older ones throw the wood at him.


I just go pour a glass of wine and ignore the rest of the job, the complaining they are doing at each other because it is taking so long, who dropped wood on his toes, who got hit in the leg with a piece of wood.

When the job is finally done, they tell me how difficult it was, and the next time I shouldn't order so much wood.

These are the same kids sitting in front of the fire on a winter day enjoying the warmth from the pieces of wood they fetched out of the yard.

Now if I can just get them to mow the yard.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

WTF - What Does PTA Mean?

School as begun. Yes, let's all pause with a collective, "where did the summer go?"

And with school comes PTA, no, not PTSD, but PTA.

Do you know what PTA means?

I always thought it meant "Parents to Avoid" because the first meeting I went to, it was like going to a bar on a bender. I walked in there thinking, "this is 15 minutes of my time" walking out 2 and a half hours later, waking up the next morning realizing I signed up for three different committees.

Then I realized it meant, "Pass the Alcohol" because you need quite a few drinks to get through these meetings. Mary Lou and Dara arguing about the size of the plastic penguins for the fundraising giveaway for an hour when they finally settle and you think you are free to go someone says, "OK, time to move onto new business!"

Oh and yes, Pass the Alcohol when it comes to fundraisers. You'll need a good buzz to ask your coworkers to spend 1,476 dollars on wrapping paper and keep a straight face because believe me, your child with want the 1 1/4inch penguin rewards for fundraising.

It could also mean, "Psst, They're Active!" This means use every avoidance possible. The minute any type of volunteer activity comes up during a PTA meeting, get out of there as quickly as possible, even if it means pulling the fire alarm!  If you volunteer for one, then you're part of THAT call list, not the PTA - parents to Avoid but Parents That Act and you'll never get off that list, even when they switch schools,  I moved counties and schools and one parent came up to me saying, "Are you Kelly? Everyone at School So and So said you are amazing, would you like to come to the school at 445am to setup for Teacher Appreciation?"

I paid my dues as a PTA Mom, I was that parent, the "go to" parent, setting up the omelet chef at 430am for Teacher Appreciation, putting together snacks for the class because some dumb ass forgot it was their Holiday on the Parent Rotation Calendar. Getting out of my car walking up to the jacked up truck with the twin American flags flying in the bed, not worried I could be a victim of road rage, but knowing it was my duty reminding the Jackass "Dude! We all got the call that you cannot make a left into the school parking lot at any time during carpool. You're screwing up our carpool line!"

If you don't want to become like me, then remember. The first week of school is when PTA smells blood in the water. They find every new parent at the school starting with a friendly, "What's your name? Who's your child at the school? What grade? Do they like their teacher?"

Then fifteen minutes later you are chairing the cookie dough fundraising committee and team Mom over the Shooting for the Stars Homecoming dance which means 1,987 stars, 16 pounds of glitter for the floor and hiring the actor for the talking moon that levitates across the dance floor.

If you want to volunteer, make sure you know what you are getting into. One year I volunteered for the Book Fair, sounds pretty easy right and I love books. After signing my name, I was given the binder of how to setup the book fair, yes the binder. Took a class in cash control, became a notary and learned a second language for the Spanish section of the book fair.

If you get caught in the front office by that PTA Mom,  Do what I do.....

"Do you want to join the we know you're busy but want you to spend the rest of your time at the school committee?"

Me: "Uh, I'm working part time, I don't think I can do it. Can I be a $15 honorary member?"

Her: "Oh we don't do that. If you don't have time because of work how about the lets spend every evening at the school working on some dumb shit committee?"

Me: "Wow that sounds tempting but maybe the $25 I'm trying to get out of this member?"

Her: "Well that sounds good but we always need help on the don't clean your house clean the school and playground weekend duty?" She smells the blood in the water, she'll know I'll cave.

Me: "How about the $100 I'll do carpool line once a month member?"

Her: "Perfect, I'll write you down. What's your email so we can send you emails of all the wonderful upcoming volunteer events at the school?"

Me: "Thanks! Here's your check. My email is aintnoway@gmail.com"

See, it works every time!

Coming up next PTA and the School Dance, yeah, we have to go there, my PTSD is kicking in with this Trigger.

Welcome to back to school!

Friday, September 1, 2017

WTF - Decision Fatigue

I'm reading this article in the New York Times about Decision Fatigue, the main jest is timing is everything when it comes to making a decision. And I couldn't agree more.

In the scenario in the article, three prisoners went before the parole board with similar convictions but only one received parole, the other two, though similar in convictions didn't receive parole due to the time of their hearing. The lucky dude in the morning received parole while the two unlucky blokes were denied during their hearings late in the afternoon.

The article goes on to state that decision fatigue can be blamed for dubious choices during shopping later in the day (I'm still calling that one Buzzed Amazon Prime Purchases) quarterbacks throwing a bad pass late in the game to yes, even that chocolate cake late at night.

I think my children understand decision fatigue far better than I do.

It usually starts at 6am as they are eating their breakfast.
"Can I go over to So and So's house Friday night?"

I'm fresh on the day, cup of coffee in hand and answer, "No, I don't think that's a good idea."

I go about my day, making choices on what to make for dinner, whether or not I need that 3rd cup of coffee, yoga pants or no yoga pants, what errands to run before picking them up, where to go after picking them up, what to make for dinner because my original plan smells funky coming out of the fridge, red or white wine, should I have another glass of wine.

That's when they smell blood in the water, they can sense my decision fatigue. They start with some easy ones:
"Can I have some of your chocolate?' They ask after dinner. Now early in the morning, I'd spew venom at anyone thinking about taking my chocolate.
"Sure honey, just a small piece."

Aha! They think, she's weakening, let's test her again. "Is it OK to watch Bob's Burgers?"
I'm just trying to make it through the cleanup, "Sounds good."

Then they go for the blood, "Can I go to So and So's house on Friday?"

My brain is still back at the "should I have another glass of wine" decision that clouds the question from earlier that morning, what did I say? I hedge a little, "If your Dad says OK, then it's OK."

They know it is still just as late with Dad so they jump on the chance, sending him a text.  His usual response is "Ask your mother."

Coming back to me knowing their timing is right, "Dad says it is up to you."

I think for a second, "OK, just make sure I know all the details."


Then I read this article on Huffington Post with suggestions on combating Decision Fatigue:
Make your big decisions first thing in the morning, yes, put that bottle of white in the fridge to chill.
Choose the simpler option. Yes, wear the yoga pants to bed because they are comfy and you'll wear them to carpool the next morning.
Limit your options: Only buy one brand of chocolate and always hide it in the same place.
Go Minimalist - does that mean naked? Oh, wear the same thing every day cutting out clothing decisions. Yoga pants it is.
Done is better than perfect - Yes, this means cooking, cleaning, who am I kidding this has been my mantra since my kids were born.
Remove yourself from situations that distract - it says to set a timer for Social Media, say, like 5 minutes, can we all chuckle now?
If it's not on your To Do list, then it's a no - um, who has a to do list?
Make your first decision work - that is if you remember it after a sleepless night and the constant morning badgering of your family

Then it mentions writing down questions the night before and not answering until that next morning when decision fatigue hasn't set in. What a great idea, I think as I have them write down the things they want or want to do, telling them I'll answer it in the morning.

Unfortunately, I've lost the piece of paper and have to start my day with the decision of what to do about it.

Thank god for yoga pants because one of my morning decision is already made.