What Would You Do?

Last night I left work around 8.30.  Which was totally awesome. Not. Anyway, at that time of the night, there aren't as many security people around, but the building has decent lighting.  So does the parking lot.  I typically park in the garage, yesterday I was on the ground floor – off to the right near the back.  As I left the building, I heard screaming – off to the left, near the back.  Yes. Screaming. 

 

"Do you believe me when I say I love you!"  " DO YOU?"

 

Screaming. Over and over.

 

I stopped in my tracks, trying to figure out what to do.

 

Do I walk back in? My badge wouldn't work on that door, I'd have to go all the way around to the front. Do I call the police? My gut told me to get to my car – which I did. As I walked toward the right, the screaming continued toward the left and I looked over, a man had a car door open and was leaning in – screaming at a woman, who was pleading "just get out and let me go home."

 

What do I do, what do I do?

 

If I go over there, I may put myself in danger. But what if she's in serious danger? What if I don't do anything and something happens to her? What would I even say?

 

I got in my car and decided to drive toward the exit, past them, slowly. The man looked up when he saw my headlights and stopped banging on the window of the car.  I stopped. Rolled down my window. He had just a t-shirt on. No visible weapons (Christ, why am I looking for weapons?) I asked if everything was OK. He said "yeah, It's all good, she's letting me in."

 

Do you need me to call security, they're driving around the lots, I can get them here in just a second.

 

I see the girl moving over from the driver's seat to the passenger seat, and he opened the door. Again, "Nah, we're good, thanks though."

 

And I slowly drove off. 

 

I don't know if I did the right thing.  Should I have called the police and stayed until they arrived? Should I have gotten out and asked the girl myself? Should I have done nothing?

 

What would you do?

The tale of the Ape

This morning I got the boyz up, set them up with their "cereal & milk" and went back upstairs to shower. When I was getting dressed, I realized they were being extra extra good.

Let me preface this by saying my kids? Do not typically get all Dr. Destructo when unsupervised. They may punch each other or chuck puzzle pieces about, but they've never used sharpie on the couch or cut anyone's hair. As a mom, though? When it's too quiet? You know something's up.

So I went to investigate.

All I found was the boys in the bathroom laughing - but nothing clearly amiss. Fine. Move along with the morning.

I dropped them off, Hi Ho, Hi Ho, off to work I go.

So I get to work and when I pulled my phone out of my purse, I bumped the camera button and found a picture.

I almost fell over, literally. I was crossing my legs so as not to piss my pants.

I tweeted this - Knowing I'd have to blog this shit later. You know. When I had access to blogger. Fucking firewalls.


Alas, here's the pictures I found on my phone.

George Costanza anyone?



Head gear. For the ape.



oooh, look at those pink polka dots. how pretty are they?



lemme just check this out, just a bit closer, oooof, i fell over.




People? The polka dots? It's my freakin' undies!

My children decided that taking pictures of a stuffed ape in my polka dot unmentionables was fun for them.

I don't even know what to say.

The state of things...

Isn't that lovely?

The Kiss Hizza is in a state of cluttered chaos these days.  Barely hanging on. Oh, we're playing and laughing and eating and walking (Walking!) but the daily chores? They have been neglected.  Honestly I don't even care that much, but it may start to stink soon.

Syracuse basketball shit the bed last night and lost in an upset.  As a result, my husband's eyes are quite sad this morning. Not sure if it's from the crying or the bottle(s) of beer he had drowning his sorrow.  Their loss also busted my bracket, dammit - but it's not like they broke my heart.

We had a date night Saturday - which was totally rad, but the kicker? When we got back to pay the sitter - she's all "Oh, I just have to change quick, we're going out!" All perky and bubbly at 11pm. Just going out.  God bless the young and stupid...

I've been walking (did I mention I'm training for the 3 Day in July? No? I am ;)  I can pretty easily do 3 to 6 miles a day, need to build up to 10/day on the weekends. Last night my 5 year old wanted to walk with me. He talked. And talked. And TALKED. No complaining, but boy can that kid chatter. Topics? How do babies learn to sleep? How do babies learn words? Why do I pull at my hair? [he has a bald spot in front, his 'tick' is to pull at / twist his hair. Awesome.]

Why are you walking so much? Do you like to walk alone? I told him why [to raise money to help cure people like Auntie A who have "sick blood"] and that I like to walk alone, but was glad he was with me at the time.

His response? "Good, I like to keep you company. So you don't feel blue."  Don't feel blue. I almost peed I laughed so hard and he gave me that sideways look with a crooked grin. Kid loves to make me laugh. 

He walked almost 2 miles with me, then Mr. Kiss met us and I walked back alone.

Walking. I like it. I really like it. I never ever got the 'runner's high' but I can tell I'm going to be a walker for life.  

Last but not least, a big fat wet kiss (with tongue) to Jana who blogged for me here: http://www.boobiesbabiesandablog.com/2011/03/i-do-good-things-with-my-mouth.html

Boobies helped me raise money for boobies! WIN!

Moral of this (long and boring) story is that I've been busy doing other things and my house is a fuckin disastah.

FYI, I will probably be talking a lot about walking for the next few months. If you don't want to hear it, you know it won't bother me. I'm only one lil hot piece of ass among many in the blogging world. I'll survive. And have wicked calf muscles to show for it.

"Just" a mom?

I've been working away, telling people that 2 + 2 doesn't always = 4. Also trying to log miles like my life depended on it...and so my space here has been so lonely.

Who's helping me? Natalie, that's who. Nat is a gorgeous mother of one + twins. The girl who bowls like a rock star. The girl who's birthday is this weekend and hasn't said shit about it. Yes. Natalie. She wanted to share some words, and I needed some words and so here are Nat's words:

*******

I am a diaper changer.
I am a boo-boo kisser and a tear wiper.
I brush hair and teeth, and comfort crying babies.

I am a referee.
I am a judge and jury. A negotiator and mediator.
I call time outs and naps, and discipline even when I'm too tired to.

I am severely underpaid servant.
I am a chef and a chauffeur. A personal assistant and maid.
I cook and clean, and do laundry...a lot of it.

I am a jungle gym.
I am a dancer and a singer. A story teller and a clown.
I play, laugh, remember songs and games of my childhood and teach them to my children.

I am a yeller.
I am occasionally a tyrant and a maniac. A child myself and a tantrum thrower.
I scream too often. I love even more often. I doubt myself even more often than that.

I am a mother.
I am continually being challenged and learning how to be one. I continually hope that I am doing it right.
I gratefully thank God each day that my kids are happy, healthy, and resilient.

The other day, as Ethan climbed back and forth over my legs as I tried to relax on the couch, it occurred
to me that I was so much more than just "mom". I started to think about all of the things that I do every
day without even realizing it or giving myself credit for. How many hats I wear; how many different faces
I put on. I had to write this, and although it's short, it means more to me than any other post I've done in
a long time.

*******

Thank you friend. Love to you and good luck this weekend. Happy Birthday. Wish I could be there when you roll a spare. Or strike. Hell, I just want to wear the bowling shirt.

Nusis Prsin

A note from my 5 year old.

Let's translate (per his request):

"You are the nicest person. And. Thank You Mom. and. Dad."

We had his kindy conference this morning. Apparently he's a math whiz, but needs to work on his spelling a bit ;) Personally, I prefer to be called a Prsin. 

#200 Wins at Life

And the winner is...

Lucky #200. That would be the Mad Woman.

Congrats girl - I'll let the shop owner know you're the bestest winner in the land!

So people? I ran a 5k yesterday. My legs are jello (i'm so out of shape) and I'm exhausted (afterparty).

Which means I gotta bolt, smooches and congrats Mad Woman

free stuff time

That's right. It makes me happy to give stuff to you - and I'm not a huge "giveaway-blog-type-gal" - you know this.

But holy crap, this etsy shop? SUPER CUTE!! I'm talking homemade and customized and all around awesome.

Check out Frilly Frames & Things

Here's a sample of the goods:



Here's the free part. I get to give one of YOU a customized birthday banner. Uh Huh. That's right. And for anyone who doesn't win? You can get one yo-self at 15% off. Just use the coupon code "mommakiss".

I'm in LOVE with this pirate banner:

And the frog princess? Ooooh, if I had a girl...


Ok - to enter? No crazy rules. There must be an e-mail address for me to contact you - that's it. Comment away. All Day, Every Day.

Bring it, Kids!

(contest ends Sunday at 5pm EST. If I'm not too lazy, I'll draw a winner then. Or soon after.)

I went for a walk

1, 2, 3, 4; 1, 2, 3, 4

 

It's Sunday morning, it's early, this is nice and peaceful.  I'll have my exercise done early. Perfect.

 

5, 6, 7, 8; 5, 6, 7, 8

 

I wonder if anyone else counts their steps as they walk? Does that make me really weird? I mean, I'm clearly not going to be able to count every step. I just like to walk to a 'count.'

 

"Oh Man is a giddy thing!"

 

That squirrel better not fucking come near me, I'll kick his ass.  Oh, oh no, that car almost crushed him! Well, serves him right.  What kind of stupid animal runs in the middle of the road anyway?  Squirrels. At least it wasn't a skunk. I hate skunks. Especially if the dog is around. Oh, God, I think I left the fence door open. If they let him out, he'll go cruising the 'hood again. He'll probably come to find me. That damn dog. 

1, 2, 3, 4; 1, 2, 3, 4

 

"You're gonna wish you, never had met me…Tears are gonna fall, Rolling in the deep!"  The entire Adele album would be a kick ass walking partner. Yep. Mmmm. Hmmm.  "You're gonna wish you Never had met me!"  I wonder if anyone can hear me singing. I'm not singing that loud, right? Just barely above a whisper. 

 

I've been walking for 30 minutes. This feels good. This is good for my body. Christ my thighs are rubbing together.  But my ass hurts. It's a good hurt. Buns of Steel. Buns of Steel.  How many miles have I walked? Maybe 2 by now? How the EFF am I going to do 20-ish miles a day in July? For 3 days straight.  I'm insane. Well, that's true in general, but insane to think I can walk that much. I can do it. I can totally do it.

 

5, 6, 7, 8; 5, 6, 7, 8

Why do I never count past 8? Am I really analyzing my counting pattern? Who the fuck cares.  Oh, I've been walking for almost an hour now. Wonder how the boys are doing.  Jeez, Mr. Kiss gets so frustrated so easily. Bet he's got them outside already. Can't handle their running around inside. It's gorgeous out. They should be outside anyway. 

 

I can see my road back into the 'hood. I can do this. Buns of Steel. Buns of Steel. I think I have a blister on my toe. Just need to wiggle it. Just a little bit.  "Wiggle it, Just a little Bit!"  Oh, that was outloud. 

 

Finally, my street. I need my inhaler. I'm 36 years old and need a damn inhaler to go for a walk in the morning.  Get me my cane and bifocals, people.  But yah, that would be good right about now. The inhaler and a Kleenex. Damn, this runny nose. I should just blow a snot rocket. But I'm in my 'hood now, I can't do that. Someone would totally see me. I'll just wipe it with my sleeve. Oh, there's a spot where there's no kid spot, perfect. Ew. Snot. EW. Ah, that does feel better though.

 

Just 4 more houses, I so did this, no problem. 

 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. I did it! I counted to 10!

 

Oh, look the kids are outside, playing hockey.  Better take my ipod off so I can hear the rundown from the husband. Great. Welcome back to my life.

 

"I'm going inside to wash my face!" Back to reality. That walk sure did feel good, though. Maybe I'll go again tomorrow.

 

~p.s. I'm totally training for the Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk.  20 weeks to go…

Ahhhhhhh

Holy Hell did last week kick my ass. 

 

Whew, still catching my breath. 

Dinner with A was unbelievable, thanks y'all for the well wishes – which I passed along simply by saying "you have so many people behind you, you can't even imagine."  A's chemo is over, she has a couple of weeks until radiation starts. Dinner was delish.  Her and I are "running" a 5k on the 12th. Pray for us both!

 

On Saturday? I had myself a spa day. Mmmm hmmm. Finally was able to get an appointment with my favorite back bruiser.  Ana is a 50ish year old Russian woman who has magical hands. I honestly don't know if you say her name AH-na or ANN-na, but in my mind I refer to hear as Ahhhhhhhhhhna.

 

She's That Good.

 

I booked 90 minutes to give her enough time to properly bruise me. She does trigger point therapy first, and then the full body massage "for pleasure, naht pain." Her words. I can barely keep a straight face when she says it, but guess it doesn't matter as my head is all squished into that face-donut-circle-thingy.   

 

After the Massahhhhhhhhge, I drove to another salon for a facial. I bought one on Groupon and was glad they could get me in the same day – but to be honest? I'll never go back. It's like they rushed through things and I just had the feeling they were giving me subpar service because it was Groupon. Either that or they suck all the time.  Regardless, I won't go back. 

Aren't I a fickle little bitch like that?

I am, it's OK to share the sentiment. 

You may want to reconsider saying it to my face, though.  Sometime soon I'm doing a giveaway. That shit makes me happy. Here's a preview of her shop: http://www.etsy.com/shop/FrillyFramesNThings

Cute?

Cute.

fin.

Cozy

Last night I went to bed at 7.30.

So did my husband.

So did the boys.

We were all in their room, in their beds. Me and the little guy in the bottom bunk, Mr. Kiss and my 5 year old in the top. The top bunk. Of twin bunk beds. Mr. Kiss is 6'4". Yah.

Even the dog was in the room. All of us, in a 12x14 foot bedroom.

There were dishes in the sink. Dirty pots on the stove. Fine, one pot - I made mac & cheese. Whatever. There was unfolded laundry on the couch. And a load in each the washer and dryer.

Guess what?

I left it all.

We all went to bed at 7.30.

All of us, in one room.

Everything I needed within 10 feet of me.

I may just try it again tonight.