My boobs were my tools of the trade for almost 20 months.

Once my youngest daughter weaned herself from the Magical Boob Juice, the fun really began!

(And by fun we all know I mean chaos!)

Pull up a chair, sit a while, read a few pages.

Keep and open mind and a joyful heart and you too can get pumped into the world of The Milk Maid.


Another Friday Mish-Mash

I love Friday Mish-Mash! It's gonna be a permanent theme for me now!

After reading K's blog I got to thinking... How do you begin to explain the feeling of the end result to someone while they are TTC and having a rough time? If someone had told me, "It's worth every ounce of pain, every moment of suffering, and every dime that it costs, and you will look back and agree that if it'd been 10 times worse it'd still be a bargain for what you get!" I would have called that person a crazy bitch. I'm not really making a specific point here, just kinda jabbering through it all in my mind. It's like having a long running inside joke with a friend and then trying to explain it to someone else. If there is a point to this, it's keep your chins up girls!

And speaking of TTC.... I have nothing to report. Hahaha! I'm crazy!

Last nite (after Ava went to sleep and Faith went to my parent's house for the night) Jef and I sat on the couch, enjoyed a glass of wine* and listened to music for hours. I was the dj so I started us off with The Eagles then Boston, The Who (say it with me: Roger Daltrey is HOT), Jimmy Buffet, Queen, and then the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. We laughed, we talked, we did some air-banding and a little dancing! This morning there were clothes tossed all around the living room. Like people just suddenly got hot or something. There was a bra on the lamp, pants were inside out. I dunno what happened!

*I enjoyed wine, he enjoyed vodka, but it sounds more romantic for us to be having wine so envision that!

For those who have asked (Meg & Kris) the Jeep is a 1979 CJ7 with a CJ5 top (Ronny shortened it). So now it's a Jeep Truck (jruck as Jef says). Here's a few pics:
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Here's Jef as a teen... when he had hair! Bald = low maintenance. I like!!
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My words of wisdom for the day:
Never sneeze on your camera lens.

--The Moulin Rouge Milk Maid says "Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir"


In With The New!

Does it look a little different in the Milk Maid's world? Did you think to yourself, "Holy Crap! Where am I?". Not to fear... I just got the itch to rearrange.

I am not blogging right now. No, you see words and you know I must have typed them sometime, but it's all a trick. I am really cleaning out a closet and putting in a new shelf right now. At least that's what I should be doing. The stuff from the closet is out and the new shelf is in. And since there is a computer in the room where I am working on the closet project, well I got distracted. Shhh- don't tell.

Nothing much new today. I still have the cold. My mouth is itchy today which totally weirds me out. I think it's from all the nice sinus drainage.

I'm going to have to buy my trophy husband (yes you are!) some new pants. It seems when you go on a diet and actually eat GOOD stuff all the time then your pants will fall off. I am in no danger of that happening to me any time soon.

Jef and I helped his brother buy a 1979 Jeep somethingerother about 4 years ago. After Ronny passed away Jef asked his sister and dad if he could have it back. So, in our drive is the ol Jeep-Jeep! Yay!! And with Ronny being Ronny, it's jacked up, got stiff shocks, no a/c. It needs a few things to get it to where he wanted it to be and we're gonna fix it up like he would have wanted. We're choosing paint colors now, looking for mirrors, all that jazz. Jef has driven it the past few days. I keep telling him how hot he looks driving that thing. And not because of lack of a/c.

Speaking of a/c... Supermom did you ever get any coolness?!

And Sassy T... you must be one busy little bee. I haven't seen you buzzing around lately! Miss ya chickie. I know, email works both ways right?!

To the rest of my gang member homies... My return to karate class will be tomorrow nite. Wish me luck. It's hard to beat someone to a bloody pulp when you are so sore you can't move.

B- Working on that nickname!

--The Milk Maid is buy one, get one free today


"It's too early for me to be here..." **UPDATED**

Ava awoke this morning no less than chipper. I slid out of bed like Jurassic period sludge, made Jef lunch, and this is where I landed. Still have the cold/sinus infection deal going on. I'm not in the mood to make coffee. And my father and Faith want to drag me to the water park later on! Jeez.

The memorial went well- you know, for a funeral! I got up, did my eulogy that I finished as we were walking out the door, didn't trip in my 3 inch heels, and only one person saw my boobs (my niece). I was breastfeeding at that moment (who had their mind in the gutter?!). To make it even, I got to see hers too... she was also bf-ing. My niece is 34. Her dh, "lil Chuckie" is Jef's sister's little boy. My 35 year old, 6'4 nephew who is currently working with an undisclosed Department of Defense organization.

I also got to hear the million dollar question... I was walking past Mike (BIL) and someone asked him, "Oh, is that your daughter?". He didn't even crack a smile and said, "No, that's Jef's trophy wife!".
Ok, to sum up:

We went to the water park... it wasn't too bad. Ava napped under an umbrella for 1 and a half hours- which is 3 times her usual nap here! I was under the same umbrella, kicked back and relaxed. Plus, dad bought me a shaved ice. He knows how easily the beast is tamed with food.

As far as the Trophy Wife comment: That's just so unbelievably funny to me and my head got like THHHHAAAAT big. First, just because I'm 19 years younger than my hubster does not make me any kind of trophy. I came with a payment book... and a no return policy from my parents (dad seriously told Jef that!). And although I consider myself tolerable to look at on most days, and semi-cute yet chubby on others, I don't fall into my own definition of a trophy wife (and that would be huge store bought boobs, tiny and waif-like figure, model perfect highlighted hair, and she would probably shave her legs more than once a week too. And not belch. Or fart. Or squirt breast milk at her husband while he is on the toilet. )

I am just an extremely lucky gal who found an older but equally lucky guy and we fell in love and touch ta-tas on occasion. I wont even comment on how RARE an occasion that is these days. Oops! Blew that one. Oh- bad phrasing. Stop it. Out of control! Arrrgh!

(Meg, you are totally a trophy wife... Kris too- heck you know what I nicknamed you girls!

--The Milk Maid squirts innocent bystanders for fun!



This is an example of what my family might order at the local coffee house:

Faith: Double Mocha Chocolate Chip Frappuchino with Extra Whipped Cream
Ava: Cafe Latte (with breast milk of course)
Jef: Irish Coffee minus the coffee, double the whiskey
Me: Quadruple Espresso with heavy foam and a side of zoloft

To catch everyone up, today is the memorial for Ronny. I still haven't written the eulogy- that's what I am warming up my brain for now. I wrote 2 paragraphs the other day, but I tossed it. Of all times for that perfectionist in me to rear her ugly head, why now?! I know everything I want to say, but the words just aren't going down on paper for me.

I've been thinking a lot about my own mortality lately. I've decided this: I want to be cremated and then have my kids go on wild adventures to sprinkle bits and pieces of ashes everywhere. I can imagine the will reading now:

"Faith, you are to go to Machu Picchu, find a pack llama named Flaca, lead the llama to the far west corner and sprinkle your mother's ashes as the wind blows at 2.6 mph...

"Ava, your penance for saying dada, hey, bye, and a few other words before saying mama is to take these ashes to the Pacific Northwest, find a Sasquatch, and...."

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I have had intermittent internet all day. I haven't finished the eulogy. I am getting a cold. My jaw hurts. Aunt Flo came. I feel fat, tired, cranky, sad, and ready to barf.

Yeah- it's Monday alright!

(At least I'm a ninja pirate mobster gang member!)


Reunion Rundown

The reunion went better than anticipated... I got most everything done in time, and just said "forget about it" to the remainder of the general crap. I drank a good amount of beer, but didn't get waisted. I climbed right up on stage and presented awards, had everyone laughing, and still managed to fit my ego through the door when we left.

And once we left we were going strait to pick Ava up from my parent's house, but we made a slight detour to the bar around the corner and listened to Jef's bro-in-law's band play a few songs. We stood around with his sister and chatted up various people we knew for a while, then hit the road home.

I didn't have to smote anyone, I only once had to politely remind one person that my eyes were about a foot and a half higher than where he was staring, everyone was friendly, and life went well for the nite! I know, how unlike me to have something go well for a change.

Here are the pics, complete with new hair and dress, as promised (these are post-party... we forgot to do pre-party, but I will have pics soon from the beginning of the reunion where I don't look so sleepy):

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Friday Mish-Mash #3 **UPDATED**

My To Do List:
* Means Completed

*1. Buy dress that doesn't show my muffin-top stomach or make my ass look like cottage cheese that is both reunion and memorial service appropriate.
*2. Get hair cut and styled so you don't freak out tomorrow over that thick, course, unruly mop you call hair before reunion.
3. Finish last minute reunion details.
4. Write eulogy for Ronny.
*5. Yell at old crazy lady with rollers in her hair that is driving slowly in front of you.
*6. Save neighborhood from what you believed at the time was a rabid chipmunk that later turned out to be a paper sack.

I am not sure if any of you have ever noticed, but I like to write and create. So, naturally I volunteered to say a little something about Ronny at his memorial service. And now, wouldn't you know it, I have eulogy writer's block. Where did my Muse go? I had a glass (or 3) of wine last nite after Ava went to bed and was spouting poetry sandwiched between a soliloquy and a haiku for the man. Now... zilch. I really should record my drunken ramblings. I could write that book I've been putting off in no time!

Started euology for Ronny, have 2 paragraphs written. As far as a eulogy goes, it's humorus.

Had dinner with the reunion-gang. Still putting off last minute details for the last minute.

Like my new hair so far. I have been listening to The Who a lot and picturing myself as the long lost female band member.

Been thinking about sex A LOT. Not news. Just thought I'd share. It's been weeks. Torture. Madness. Insanity.

I envy B for getting 23 responses to her next to last blog. Even though I was responsible for most of them, I still have a certain amount of jealousy.

So who the hell IS the clown-ish one?

Been thinking about the "mean gang". Want to make a spread sheet of our strategic maneuvers. It's anal, but it's fun.

That is the only context in which I shall use the above referenced sentence.


I Just Had To Share

This is my fun project for the reunion for the day. We got a questionnaire from a bachelor who was determined to stay that way... his answer for for "Married Y/N" was "HELL NO".

A trip to the Dollar Store for air freshener and some crazy ideas later here's the prize for the "Hell No To Marriage" Award:

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Incase you can't see it the label reads:
A Delightful New Product From JK Labs, Wife-Away Spray- For the Unmarried Man Who Wishes To Stay That Way! “A Spray A Day Will Keep Women Away”. Bachelor Tested, Grumpy Old Man Approved. Warning: Not for use on livestock. Do not attempt to have sex with women for 69 hours after using this product. For external use only– I don’t care how horny you are!

Just Give Me Another Week...

... And jam that other week in between now and Saturday night! There is a wad to do for the reunion, and that saying "time is of the essence" is blaring in my head like a static-filled radio signal. I am not a procrastinator, usually. I am not behind now... It's just know that I must rely on 4 other people to help me pull this off-- The 2 Out of Towners, The Heavily Pregnant Chick, and the Ditsy Blonde-- that makes me worry. Just a little. Hey, at least if it doesn't go well I don't have to see these dipshits for 10 more years- if then!

I don't have a clue why this reunion has become all important to me. In high school I wasn't a jock, but I was a top notch athlete. I was a nerd, but I wasn't walking around with my glasses taped together and a pocket protector. I wasn't cool, but I was well known. I was very shy. I know THAT is hard to believe, but I was dreadfully shy. A bad marriage and terrible divorce will bring out the self-confidence though. I really guess I just have something to prove to these people. I know these people care less if I am well-adjusted (I'm laughing too!), confident, happy, and a lot cooler than they are. But, I guess I need to see it all for myself.

On a different note (middle C perhaps? Hummm!)... I am going to start back to karate. Apparently, I am craving getting my buttocks beaten to a pulp. I really need to get back into shape so I can get preggo again and totally destroy all my hard work for a third time. Oh well, it's a decent trade. At least I wasn't as sore after giving birth as I was after my very 1st karate class. Yes, I am being 100% serious!

On a sad note, Jef's brother passed away rather unexpectedly yesterday. He was 50-ish, and it was totally unforeseen. We are waiting for them to do the autopsy so that perhaps we can understand the mystery of why a decently healthy man just falls over dead. We love you Ronny, aka Uncle Hippy!


Slide Shows

Ava is actually sleeping today, so I'm catching up on all kinds of projects!

Here are two slide shows for your viewing pleasure. One is Father's Day with Big J and Ava and the other is from my cousin's visit last week! Enjoy~

9 In, 9 Out

Ava is a big 9 months old today! We have a doctor appointment for her in a couple hours, so you know I will update with stats upon our return!

Ava weighs 18 lbs. 6 oz. and is 29" long! The doctor came in and the first words out of her mouth were, "look at that little ball of fire!".

They say it takes 9 months to gain the weight during pregnancy and 9 months to lose the weight afterwards... But since it took me 9 to lose, it's only fitting that I have gained every single darn pound back as of this morning. Isn't that just poetic.

Faith made one of her great one-liners yesterday and I must share. She had left the house with a plastic bottle of lemon flavored water and as we drove to one of many errands yesterday she said, "Things look different through the bottle". A pretty innocuous statement until you put it into adult terms and think about how the world looks when you are a little tipsy.

The class reunion is Saturday. It's all screwed up. It's so bad, I can't even write about it without having brain pain. Let me put it this way: You have a budget for a reason. And, the people I went to school with could not kick their way out of a wet paper sack. Thank goodness I am helping these morons. I may be getting a god complex from this... as long as they recognize me for the supreme being that I am, I will not have to smote any of them.


To Clarify

The condoms are for my 10 year class reunion. We're giving gag gifts and for the person with the most children we are awarding a very colorful variety of condoms! The winner of the most recently married award gets KY.

The opks... well, they were on clearance, still have a great expiration date, and well- You just never know when the overwhelming urge to pee on something will overtake you! And, yeah the "how about another baby" discussion has gone from if to when... at least during daylight hours. Ask me that question at 3am after Ava has been doing the boob-buffet for the past hour and you might get a totally different response!

Of course there are still a few things to work out before we are ready to get down to business and make a complete triplicate of yours truly (haha). Ava's not quite one, Jef has a checkup for his kidneys in early August, I am out of prenatals and am waiting for an appointment for that. Of course there are a few peeps out there who are doin' the IVF boogie that need to get preggo ahead of me. Yeah- like I said it's nothing imminent, just on the books for sometime before 2010.


We Gone, Killah!

Yes-they are GONE. Thank goodness... I was at wit's end. I really love my cousin Jodi dearly, but 3 constant days of anyone is enough I say! Whew- I made it!

I do have some really great pics of Jodi and the girls... I will get to those maybe tomorrow or so. We went to the Cracker Barrel this morning, and they ate like birds. A pancake each and a few strips of bacon split between them. Oh beetoches pleeze! I ate 2 eggs, 2 strips of bacon, grits, and 2 biscuits. And 3 cups of coffee. I was wired for sound. I didn't eat lunch though- so really I guess I did ok.

And no, I bypassed the urge to lock them in the pool house. Even when all 5'7, 109 lbs of Jodi bitched about her FAT. :::Sound of Aradia's head banging against a concrete wall:::

Jef doesn't have to work tomorrow- YAY! And Father's day is Sunday. Paige- his other spawn that only shows up for money or food- will be visiting us Sunday. She hasn't been down in months and will be leaving for Argentina soon. Not soon enough. She treats Jef like crap... unless the wallet is open or there is a smorgasbord at hand. She's 21... shouldn't she be getting a life already? Oh did I hear bitter Aradia scratching at the surface of life again?

As I understand it, some of you miss the snarky Aradia (fab-u-luss word, yo?). Ok, sure some of you are like "Where is that nice lil Aradia we all know and love?". Those peeps haven't spoken up loud enough- haha! So the evil bitch-shoe wearing gal the rest of you hunger for (perhaps an over-statement) is here in the flesh just for your enjoyment. Ok, ok- B, you especially get your mind out of the gutter. Just a mere saying, not a realistic description.

So, what does the evil bitch-shoes wearing A do on a Friday nite once the baby is asleep and Faith is at the other "parent's" home?... I type a blog. Because Jef is ASLEEP. And there is no chance of SEX... unless I go make friends with the shower massager or some battery operated toy. Sigh--

Sleep with that image. I'm going to!

--The Milk Maid bought condoms AND opks today. Darn that reunion!


What Day Is This?

I feel like I am in some kind of a gosh-awful time warp where nothing is quite as it seems. The days have blended together into one large brown blob. Welcome to the "your family has been here too long" zone.

I like Jodi and Laken, really I do. Mostly because I only see them once a year for a day or two at a time. This is day 3 (me thinks!) and last night was my breaking point. The usual family stuff... nothing wild or crazy or anything really worth mentioning. I'm just ready to have my routine back, ya know.

I've been catching up bit by bit on blogs today... It's been tuff considering I have to sneak away from the pool to read them. All they wanna do is eat junk and lay by the pool. If I weighed 109 lbs and had the metabolism of a 3 year old then I'd be all for it. But, for me, simply by being near junk food I am bloating like a frog.

Perhaps tomorrow, when they are long gone, I can come up with something more quippy and snarky to write about. Until then, I'm going to ignore that Kirsty Alley-like voice telling me to call Jenny Craig and then stuff scrawny Jodi and her spawn in the pool house.


Gobbeldy Goop Tuesday

From MSN's Daily Horoscope:

"You need to cut down on stress and stop getting all upset over nothing, dear Capricorn! Even if, up until now, you haven't been able to figure out what is really bothering you, today you will understand some of the mysteries of your personality, and understand what it is exactly that causes those chronic mood swings of yours. You'll see that you have nothing to worry about!"

Just way too accurate there, peeps. If I could understand ANY of the mysteries of my personality it would be one of those light-on over the head moments, complete with choir accompaniment. Maybe I understand those mysteries, I just don't accept them. Humm, fatal flaws be damned here we go a bloggin...

Can I just say B&K crack me up! You girls- whew! I can totally see us having zany, comicbook-like adventures and taking over the world. At least that's the grand image I have replaced the sperm-tub with! And THAT whole scene would be a wonderful horror movie plot-- "You have SPERM!", she gasped as she vaulted her nakedness from the evil vat of man-juice. Of course the title would be Horns, Bitch Shoes, and Sperm (thanks becca!).

Ok, since it was somewhat requested (that'd be you B) here is just how dirty my little mind is (just a glimpse, really!):

I constantly think about sex. I swear, my brain must be hardwired for having a penis. If I have a moment to think that isn't about breathing, kids, or general safety, then I am thinking about sex. Jef knows and understands this. He is totally immune to me grabing his butt or other places just because I cannot control myself. He gets boobs shaken his way about twice a day on average and he's like "(YAWN) yay, boobs". Now, physical actions aside anyone is fair game for the playingfield of my inner psyche. Hey, come back here!! I'm not getting all cyber-wankie with y'all. You girls are like sisters, and I definately draw the line at incest. Unless I had a really hot twin...

See- I can't control myself. I don't hump strangers legs in public, but I might have a brilliant flash of "Oooh I would sure love to..." and then it's all back to "Hello Mr. Grocery Store Cashier". It's kind of fun really... Jef has made it into a game. He will say "What about that person?" and point and I tell him some really nasty 2 sentence fantasy.

Ok- get out of my head! That's as far as we are traveling today my dearies.

--Milk Maid saves money on showers by only using cold water


People with worse accents than MINE!

For the few of you who have been blessed with hearing my southern drawl and thought, "Yep, that's about as southern as it gets for an accent!" I am about to prove you wrong. My cousin Jodi and her daughter Laken (see, Aradia is a perfectly normal name in my family) are coming down for a little visit from the backwoods of North Carolina. Let's just say, they have a very peculiar accent.

It hasn't rained here in forever (12 inch deficit!), but as soon as they finalize plans to "come a schwemmin" it's going to thunderstorm every day this week. I'm sure that's karma for all the bitch-shoe wearing moments I've had lately.

It's been a week (month... year?) for this big ol' mountain of crazy to spew her molten cuckoo all over everyone. Mount Aradia erupted, people went running in fear for their mortal souls, and now that the dust cloud is settling perhaps we can resume normalcy. At least as close to normalcy as we had before.

The 10 year reunion is coming up. I'm excited but dreading it too. I don't want to see one particular person there- after she started trying to break into my house, stalked me, and 'steal' Jef away from me, well it's just gonna be awkward. Plus, I'm not stoked about leaving Ava with my mom for that long. My dad will be there too, and Ava will most likely snooze off by 8... but it's just a long time away from peewee. I'm a creature of habit and routine, and change just rocks my boat to the point of nausea. But you'd probably guessed that about me by now!

--milk maid says Mt. Aradia is dormant. for now.


Talkin 'Bout SEX!

Can someone tell me on what channel the infomercial for THIS is being shown?

I feel like I've missed out on some really important information here peeps. My goodness, a whole book devoted to sex techniques. Well, more than one book, seeing as this is the advanced technique book. I wonder... Do you have to take a test to graduate from beginner level to the advanced? Can you take a placement exam to skip the first book and move right into the hard to master positions? Where do I sign up to help do research for the 3rd installment?

The funny part is that I was looking for 'stripped screw removal' when I stumbled blindly into the hidden realms of As Seen on TV soft-porn.

Father's Day will be upon us soon, and if anyone can tear something up it's my dad. They make a tool that rebores the head of the screw so you can get it out without too much muss and fuss. So, being a good daughter (who doesn't want her crap torn up worse when dear old dad comes to help) I went internet shopping.

Did anyone else notice all the product recommendations at the bottom of the page? Dr. Ruth is promoting a very scary looking vibe*, Jenna is touting her hoo-hoo trimmer, there is a Jolie personal massager (not endorsed by Angelina, sorry!), and other various "happy time" products. That is until you get to the last 3 items: A Digi Draw, a Vinyl and Leather repair kit, and a Smart Spin food storage unit.

*Original wording of sentence was "Dr. Ruth is plugging her very scary looking vibe". Eewww!

Now, I can completely draw the logical conclusion that people who are into advanced sexual positions also need vinyl and leather repair. You are free to make your own mental picture of that one. Also, it's not a huge stretch that upon reading your advanced sexual position book or using any of the other wonderful little products they offer that you might free your muse and feel the need to draw something, hence the digi draw (new slogan: It frees the perverted artist in you!). The third item- the Smart Spin food containers- now that's a little harder for me to wrap my mind around. I own a set of these lovely containers, and I have never been compelled to use them in any manner inconsistent with their labeling. Perhaps I am missing some connection here. Oh- I get it... must be for dividing up the bucket of lube that Walgreens sells for easy use!

--Milk Maid says she frees the perverted artist in YOU!


More Friday Mish-Mash

I have eluded snarky comments thus far on my blog... but they may be coming. I recently read a post on "that site" that pissed me off- you know (most of you know) that site. Wink, wink, nudge! If you have NO clue what I'm talking about, you won't learn today, so go away.

Anyways, for all my pals that are left I will condense the happenings:

I bought something (7 of them) "out from under" someone who couldn't get their crap together long enough to purchase them for their own use. Now, they belittle and bemoan and be-bitch ME every freakin time I stumble across a post from them on that site (which I deleted from favorites today- y'all are here anyways!). So I made a little snarky comment below their post. Why...? Because my bitch shoes are on, sister (my favorite new accessories by the way)!!. So nanny-nanny booboo!

Ok, now that the above bidnez is squared away let's continue!

Many of you will notice that I am back on the net. Thank goodness too because my mom's house is less than pleasant- any time of year! I hooked DSL up all by myself (gotta earn that nerd score!). I was starting to have withdrawals... I do everything online. If I could cook supper online (other than ordering pizza!) I would.

I'm supposed to come up with a list of questions for Dr. Letz Biopsy as to WTH we will learn from said biopsy, his downtime (aka practice for 3rd child), and other crap. I can't really think of anything besides those except "Does you bank accept bits o' kidney for car payment? ".

I hate doctors. You can tell that from the previous paragraph and previous rants. I think they are all idiots. My reason for thinking this: They say they "don't know what in the world could have possible caused his kidneys to secrete this amount of creatinine". Google it Dr. Turd- just like I did. Uncontrolled blood pressure puts you at risk for kidney disease/failure. Combine that with a high powered blood pressure medicine given without prior testing of renal function and wha-laa... you got yourself a screwed up hubby.

I was supposed to be taking Faith to Clemson, SC for a horse show today. My dad practically begged me to let him take Faith, so I was like "POOF, be gone father!". The last thing I wanted to do was drive 2 hours to see my ex-husband. If anything, I'd prefer to drive 2 hours in entirely the opposite direction JUST to be farther away from him. This just in: I have just learned that my social butterfly Faith has made comfy in a $200k horse trailer with a new pal (my dad described* her as "Small Blonde Meg**") whose dad was Mayor around here. My ex seems to have scored some nice clientele. Keep those checks rollin' in bad boy!

*My father always describes people's features with names. My "tag" was always, "This is my daughter, the Moose!" because I have always had a large, athletic frame (that was later upholstered with baby fat).

** Small Blonde Meg reminds me that now I do the same thing- kind of. When I chat with Jef about you gals I always have a description after your name for the inevitable clueless look he gives me.

Ok, last but not least a photo:

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Before we were dating, at a real estate bash. I thought he looked hot in a tux, plus he kept touching my bare back... too sexy! Later, after we got married he said something like, "I thought you were tremendously hot, but I was married! So I just touched your back for the heck of it all!"



Guess who cancelled his biopsy until he gets a chance to ask questions. And mentioned it to me well after the fact. Guess who is beating her head against the wall. Sure, I got what I wanted and what WE had discussed. But why the drama? I'm not into drama- that's why I was on the yearbook staff for 5 years (we had 8th grade in the high school- thanks overcrowding).

Faith had her friend "Cortennay" over. Much like her name, she's just too much for me to take. It makes my head hurt to remember all her likes and dislikes. I finally told her to "eat the pizza or starve, it makes no difference to me!". The final straw was when she threw a ball at Ava and bounced it off her head. She was taken home 30 minutes later.

My internet at home is down- we dont know why. I am at my mother's house. Her air is set on 86 degrees. It's 84 outside. I'm going back home before I have a heat stroke!

Where are my bitch shoes??... I got more floors to scuff!

--The Milk Maid needs refrigeration before she curdles.


I Hate Sofas

I hate them because I know when I'm sleeping on one I am in the doghouse for something. As was the case last nite...

Some of you know about Jef and His Kidneys. No, it's not a new oldies tribute band (god knows I wish!). He is having "issues" with creatinine levels- that's the condensed version of all the crap we've been going thru over the past month because of it.

At the last appointment one of his doctors told him he MUST have a biopsy of his kidneys. They know he doesn't have cancer, leukemia, 49 other different diseases or disorders... but they don't know WHY his creatinine levels are high. So, said doctor gets his panties in a wad and orders for a biopsy. Even though the OTHER doc at the same practice the same day at THE SAME F-IN TIME says no, that's way too invasive and it's too early in the game.

I thought WE had decided to wait for at least a few more weeks before hopping the biopsy train. Obviously, the conversation WE had was only taken to heart by ME since HE scheduled (rescheduled, actually) the biopsy. Which all this is fine- if he wants a huge needle shoved into his kidney so be it! But (and there's always a but) he didn't tell me until over a day later that he'd decided this. That's where I put my bitch shoes on and scuffed up the floor of contentment.

I pretty much just ignore people and don't make any unnecessary conversation when I fight. I'm the argument turtle for 2 reasons: I tend to break things I really like when I throw stuff, and it's a lot more effective to just be silent but deadly.

I really don't remember what set me off or set him off or what lead up to the whole deal, but I was already putting clothes on to go sleep on the couch and accidentally (yes, it really was an accident) whacked my wedding ring on the light switch and it made a huge thud. He made a comment that if I was going to bang things around blahblah, and I said I wasn't blahblah, and he said I'm gonna go sleep on the couch blahblah, and I said don't bother I'm already dressed (have you figured out we sleep in the buff yet?) and I walked out (no door slamming) and bedded down for the night. He was snoring by the time I got comfy.

Of course a little after 3am I am awaken by a very sorry hubby. I was too sleepy to apologise (I made apology-like noises) and he ushered me back to the bed where we snuggled up and slept for a few more hours.

The End- haha!


A Few Pics

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Chaos Ensues
(L-R: Muffin, Ava, My Mudder, Gidget)

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"No diaper, no diaper, no diaper!"

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"That's mine Faith!"

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Bit o' Baby Smackdown
(My Mudder lets Faith have a sippy at her house. Ava asserts her dominance over 'seestar')

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Nice Perfume
(Buster the Weener & Prissy, Mother of all Gatos)

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Murray's New Do
(He used to look so much bigger)

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"Well no, there is nothing in my closet that fits anymore, thank you!"
(Sad but true, she's grown 3 inches and 2 sizes over the past year)

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Ready to surf!
(Hang 10... as soon as we get that balance thing down)



Talking to Jef about Faith and her "father"...

Me: I swear to god she looks more and more like Scott every single day.
Me: And it makes me want to poke her in the eye.
Me: A lot!
Jef: She messing around a lot today?
Me: Nah- she's not too bad. But she just has that "look" about her today... like she might wanna do something that might make me Crazy. Crazier. The Craziest I've Been Lately. No, she'd have to be really bad for that.
Jef: You're weird.
Me: Thank you... I work very hard at staying this way.

--Milk Maid's not gonna cry over spilt milk. She'll just make more!


Friday Mish-Mash

Here are some interesting things (I hope they interest you) I've seen, done, and thought about this week:

I started off the week wanting to believe in miracles. I finished up the week knowing they can happen, but not always when you want them to. There's no magic wand- still. I've said it a million times: things happen for a reason. I don't know the reason. I am adding this: I'm unsure that if it was possible to know the reason WHY for everything that I would want to have that knowledge.

That was way too deep for a first paragraph. It gets lighter from here folks...

I saw a goat pee in a sandbox. My goat, my sandbox. Faith wants to bring the goat inside now since it's apparently litter box trained. She didn't see it poop on the sidewalk.

Faith is the most quirky little girl I know. I used to know a little girl who made Faith look really bland and boring, but that little girl grew up to be a quirky woman.

Ava can climb stairs. Especially if the cat is at the top of the stairs.

The llama got a haircut, and now his man-bits are horribly exposed. They are also uneven. This bothers me beyond belief.

I love tweezers. I will sit happily all day long with good lighting and tweezers and pluck every unsightly hair I see off of Jef (or anyone else who will hold still).

Cats do not enjoy having stray hairs plucked.

One should never watch a rerun of CSI when Roger Daltrey is guest-starring AND drink wine at the same time. Roger makes you lose count of how many glasses you have imbibed (because you think he's HOT). Yes, he is old enough to be my grandfather. But he's hot! Or he was in the 70s. Regardless, don't drink and Daltrey. You will wake with a headache.

I cleaned out a cupboard yesterday and found about 200 pages of emails from when Jef and I started dating. We printed them all out and put them in a notebook. I'm going to clean more often if I can keep finding neeto stuff like that.

I have encountered a small dilemma this morning. If by chance we have another kiddo, and by chance it is a boy... then we have 2 names picked out (first and middle x 2). So I guess that means I'd better have twins, or that Jef buys me a really awesome animal to name the leftover name.

You say you want to know these names? I'll give you clues... first one is what Ava's name would have been if she was a boy. Second name is a combo of someones last name I just blogged about and a motorcycle racer's last name (he rides a Honda and has 2 brothers). If anyone can guess the second set of first and middle names then you get the glory of being right, and a special award! Jef, you can't play!

PS- I retook the nerd test. It was a 91 this time. Your nerdiness is: Supreme Nerd. Apply for a professorship at MIT now!!!