Gorillabuns

this is today, tomorrow is another day

While I know circumstances might change after I press <enter> -

three tests later, I have an answer to my last post.

Excuse me while I go into my corner to FREAK the HELL OUT!!!

when did you decide

enough was enough? Specifically, when did you decide you were tired of being fat, bloated, stretched and achy? Tired of being tired and tired of having 5 sets of colorful muumuus in your closet due to being a vessel to a parasite? When did you decide was the magical age of reason for being another or someone else's mama was done, over and FINITO? Your house runneth over, your finances would never recover, your body will never respond from such a thing? Meaning - when did you decide you were done spawning? children.

Lately, Celia has had it set in her mind, I'm going to have another child. She casually bull-horned this information to everyone and anyone who would listen during our the last field trip. The mother's in attendance asked if we were done littering the free-world. I sheepishly proclaimed, "over my dead, fat body, I don't thinks so. I don't know. Whatever! Pass the chips."

Either Celia's prophetic or she's simply delusional. I'd like to think the latter. Honestly, she comes from a long line of crazy folk in my family. We're all out-of-our-minds, I tell ya!

During Rich's birthday party this past weekend, quite a few friends asked if we were done shooting forth from the fruit of our loins. My response? Pass the damn Tequila people! You are ALL OBVIOUSLY DRUNK OFF YOUR ASSES!! Nope, NADA, Never.

See, I don't like baby, babies. I don't like or love the first six months of life. Shoot me for being an incredibly horrible person but if you had TWO colicky kids screaming and not sleeping for the first year of their lives, you'd feel the same. Let's just say, it's not-so-cute and cuddly.

However, I do like them when they are Five and can tell you their interesting and sweet, intricate lies. This I can understand. This I can reason with and laugh. NOT little ones who can't tell you where it hurts and think it's funny to scream while you haven't slept in 17 months. straight.

I ask this question not because I think I'm an awesome mother (we ALL KNOW, I'm SOOOOO NOT!) who seriously thinks the world needs another Gorillabuns around to torture but I ask this question because I never consciously made the decision to be done, over and FINITO! I didn't pay attention and relish in Moira's pregnancy because I was a) too freakin' sick, b) had JUST been pregnant 11 months before Mordecai and c) I always thought I'd have another one soon. Have a butt-load of kids. Maybe this feeling is because I'm an only child and man, it's kinda a lonely place to be in life. No one to share in life's sad end and in sweet victorious moments.

There have been many hit-and-misses in the past few years of which, I never planned. With a sister-in-law trying to get pregnant with IVF, a friend who gets pregnant while drinking tap water and then subsequently, losing them due to circumstances beyond her control,  I wonder and reflect.  I consider, weigh and re-weigh my thoughts and options - this ship probably sailed, burned and has been buried way out into the yonder sea. I thoughtfully think, I'm almost 40 and why play Russian-roulette with chances and theories? I have two perfectly and seemingly healthy children.

Why play the odds? I don't gamble because I don't like to lose.

Would you?

drunk don't look good on me

Let this picture state the obvious:

a) I seriously, SERIOUSLY need to lay off the alcohol. Let's not discuss the bloat around the face, body and hands.....

b) I need to be part of the cast of the next Biggest Loser.

c) When did I find the time or the need to put in a chip clip in my newly shaved hair during our party on Saturday?

d) Rich is wondering how he got so lucky to be with whale of a lush on his 40th birthday.

e) I'm silently thinking to myself, "are our guests loving "Everlong" as much as I am at this moment?"

Let's recap, on Saturday, Rich celebrated his 40th birthday with loads of home-brewed BBQ, alcohol and wonderful friends who came in droves to honor the dude and all his "niceness." SERIOUSLY! This is what everyone has to say about the man who always has a smile on his face. "Gosh, Shana, Rich is just so nice and ALWAYS has a smile on his face!" This is true with everyone he meets - unless he happens to meet you at 7am and well, he might scowl at your mug because, Rich don't do early. As well as his Orca wife. OR if you happen to be his Orca wife at 7am, whichever comes first.

Rich also has a wonderful sense of humor of which, most don't get.

Everyone who greeted him, looked at his socks paired with sandals and sheepishly wondered, "What happened to the skeleton of the cool man I used to know?" The only person who figured out the non-overt joke happened to be the quite late and highly intoxicated ex-boyfriend. This would be MY high school ex-boyfriend. Long story, don't ask. Let's just re-iterate, he was the only one to get the joke.

As the night wore on, all the beer was consumed in record fashion. Like 2.5 hours from a 15 gallon keg. I know, I know, I KNOW! The word "keg" reminds you of all the high school, rut-gut parties you attended while partying in the abandoned cul-de-sac of your youth but really, it was from a local brewery. So....it wasn't Little Kings or Generic crap from our crazy and poor deliquent youth.

After our tap had run dry, a friend and I raided our dusty liquor cabinet. What felt like a good thought at the time...let me just state for the record - shots of nasty, low-grade Tequila (or to-kill-ya) in ramekins are NEVER a good idea.

**The lime? A total prop! I felt I was too good for the lime. However, I didn't feel too good for the copious amounts of Ibuprofen I consumed - some 5 hours later.

What time is it you ask? I think it time for ANOTHER CRAPPY SHOT! Ya think? OH, HELL YES!!! While your at it, combine 2 parts gin, 1 part orange rum with four jalapeno olives to the mix. This is sure to make a salt-lick cocktail freshen and continue to refreshen your breath for the next 12 hours.

What time is it? (Seriously, these pictures were not staged, posed or stuffed for your viewing pleasure.)

IT'S KARAAA-OKE-EEEE TIME!!!!

If you didn't know about our (Rich and my) obsession that has healed many a rift in our marriage, than you really don't know us at all.

EVERYONE waits and BEGS with baited breath for our singing interludes.....

We broke out a few props from our last Halloween outfit:

**The hat and....

my KICK-ASS SHOES, BABY!!!!!

YEP... They still fit!

or perhaps, you find it's way time to capture the essence of your youth while some mighty awesome 80's singing is going on in the house. Don't be a loner, come and join the serenading inside....

But seriously, nary a man, woman, or foul is exempt from our pot-luck sing-a-thons. Nothing says devotion to the craft than two men sing "Almost Paradise," with such intensity and love for their adoring crowd. The lights dimmed and lighters were blazing during the climactic chorus.

In the end, I hope the man of honor, my soul-mate knows, I would move heaven and earth to celebrate his most auspicious life on earth in grand style - as a wonderful father and as my pretty fucking (you know I just had to throw in a cuss word in somewhere, somehow. Yes, I'm so crass like that) awesome husband.

On a very serious note, I can't imagine my life without him and only hope we have an even BETTER birthday celebrating him in ANOTHER 40 years down the road.

I'm quite blessed to have him as my husband. As he is to have me.Because, I'm pretty awesome, if I do say myself.

**Cue the background melodic tunes of God****

">i love them sooo

and here, i thought my kid wasn't a genius

Celia is going through a phase of trying to rhyme phrases, words and sweet-ass beats. Usually, I nod and say "yep, you are getting there" and then we go on our merry way.

Today, while in the car with the whole-damn family on a trek to a Pirate birthday party, Celia was whole-heartedly working on her new mad skillz.

"Hey, guys! Ba-Ba-Ba-Ba, Buck-ET.......

Rhymes with Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa, Fuck-IT!"

WELL..... One can NOT argue with this new and amazing discovery.

I only pray to GOD, my dead grandmother didn't hear this revelation. May she NOT send a lightening bolt to strike me down due to my exemplary parenting skills.

the next american badass!

During an IM session with LVGURL this evening, she nervously reminded me of her biggest, most auspicious soon-to-be accomplishment coming up this Saturday. This accomplishment would not be the marathon I so stupidly stated; it would be the triathlon, she has so diligently trained for these painstaking months.

I don't care if you've never commented here or there or anywhere; please and go wish her well and cheer her on for her marathon triathlon. You know as in: swim, bike and run - not to be confused with the training I've been under as of late: drink, eat and sleep.

RUN LIKE THE WIND ATHENA!!!!! RUN!!! (Seriously, I'm clueless which goddess is the warrior. There has been much debate in this household over this subject and who cares? I never liked Greek/Roman mythology anyway.)

BEST WISHES!!! Marci, may you drink copious amounts of GIN in celebration!!!