I sent a text to Big J and told him I had, oh how did I phrase it exactly...
"I have a mother fucking headache from hell!"
This statement, in all it's crude and brazen glory, was followed by the traditional moaning and whining of a tired woman who'd spent her day off getting very little day off.
His response was, "Take an aspirin".
I wanted to tell him something to the effect of Ooooh thank you Helpy Helperton, [insert deep Southern drawl here] I would have never figured that one out all by my little ol' self!
In actuality I said "thanks babe" and knew that deep on his heart he really just wanted me, his crazy menstrual-cycle laden wife who currently has the stress level of a hamster on fire, to feel better.
--The Milk Maid says this is what makes her such a fantastic spouse.
2/10/09
A Thought On Marriage
1/26/08
No Oompah In My Loompah
I'm trying to study flash cards and do some book work, but my brain seems to be either out of gas (insert your favorite fart joke here) or has malfunctioned to the point that I will never be able to concentrate on anything (other than blogging or sex) for more than 10 seconds at a time.
On a different note, no one (except Kat at BB) has had ANY suggestions for my 300th post. "I'm terribly disappointed!" she said scoldingly. Then she sloughed away and sulked in a corner and had lots of coffee and got over it. Mostly.
Zeus didn't eat any of the other doggies at our class. In fact, he was very well behaved and did everything I asked him to do. He won the Dog of the Night Award, which means he got a chew toy, which means that he now loves Trainer Woman much more than he loves me. Everyone was afraid of Zeus at first- one lady said "Oh My God don't let him eat me!". Never missing a chance to be a smart ass I countered with, "He only eats lean meat, lady!"... I'm damn glad I wore my Bitch Shoes to class.
Ava is still sick. I still have snotty boobs. She's added a new trick to her repertoire: When she's nursing she will get frustrated because she can't breathe from her nose so she bites me. Then I yelp, then she laughs, then I take the boobs away, then she screams, then my eyes pop out of my head. It's actually pretty funny... at least that's Jef's take on the whole deal. I remind him that he will nod off to sleep sometime...
12/5/07
Like A Bull In A China Shop
That's my dad. We had to move some wood working equipment around so he can tear down a shed and rebuild it as a barn (don't ask). Other than almost taking a foot off and clipping a toe with a 200lb. drill press, running out of gas in the tractor, backing the trailer with the tail gate down, ripping the tail gate off, dropping the tail gate on his other foot, and smashing a finger with the tail gate once it was back on our move was rather uneventful.
Faith has officially been promoted in her karate class. There are three levels: Beginner, Advanced, and Masters. The Master's Course kids get awesome looking black ninja-esque uniforms (Gees?) to wear. Since she is only a few years away from receiving her black belt, her instructor Mr. Wil (who's last name is Smith, no lie!) felt she was ready to move up. She gets to learn weapons in this class. Luckily, we are starting small with a Bo Staff and not heading directly into any blades at this time. Faith has the coordination of a pickle- sharp would not be good!
Faith works very hard at being a good athlete. Unfortunately, she got her father's "athleticism" and The Cowboy once got kicked off a co-ed softball team that never won a game. He's that uncoordinated. Faith is notably more talented than The Cowboy, but she really has to put her mind and a little heart and soul into what she's trying to do. Effort isn't always her strong suit either.
I never met a sport I couldn't play and be competitive. I didn't like everything I played as a kid- namely basketball, but that was the coach's fault- but I was darn good at all of it. It's really hard for me to see Faith struggle with simple maneuvers and punches and kicks because, since the adult class mimics what the kids do, I'm doing the same stuff she is doing. That is a very hard thing for a parent to watch. I can do it, the kids around her can do it, but she's struggling through it all. I really feel like this class is going to boost her desire to keep striving forward.
Now before someone throws their bitch shoes on and comes after me for saying my kid isn't a great athlete read this first:
I have never and will never tell Faith how bad/uncoordinated/gangly/etc. she is at any sport. She thinks she does just fine, and honestly I do too! She's not going to be a star out there, but she works hard and enjoys herself and that is more important that diamonds and gold and fame and trophies to me. Her friends respect her, I respect her even more. After all, isn't this time in her life about fun?
And speaking of fun, wouldn't a little drug rehabilitation brighten any one's day?
Lastly, and this is long over due, I'd like to hand out the first annual Bitch Shoe Award to a few pals:
*Kathy over at Baby Bound, my new found comrade and future partner in crime (tiny crimes, nothing too bad right *wink*)
*B from Baby Mamas Drama, my eternal friend in Bitch-dom!
If there weren't bitches like us wandering the earth smacking down the goodie-two-shoers everyone else might get splattered with gooey-goodness. Long live snark! And pass it on~
--The Milk Maid says snark comes off off your shoe easily with just a little wine!
11/15/07
Daily Footwear
I awoke to yet another sticky-headed barf-baby this morning. Nothing says Good Morning like stomach bile and crackers, yo!
After taking Faith to school I called the pediatrician's office and spoke to the nurse on call. Apparently, a week long cold followed by 5 days of the shits and then 36 hours of vomit do not constitute an emergency. Or an office visit. Nor would they even recommend anything besides "clear liquids and Pedi*Lite". The nurse was like, "Well stuff is going around. If it gets worse then we might can see her, but it's probably just a little bug and you shouldn't worry."
Did she just give me snark?....
Now I know that mother's tend to get all feisty and worked up over small things when their children are "sick". You know the mom's that as soon as Junior sneezes they rush him to the ER and have a billions tests run, never mind the fact that he's been playing in black pepper for cripes sakes. Yeah, those mom's are my Nemesis. My Achilles heel. They are the moms that cause people with real problems to get the old ho-hum answer of give it a few more days.
...Needless to say, I dusted off my Bitch Shoes and walked all over nurse so-and-so's smart ass with them. I still didn't get an appointment (probably because I hung up on her), but I sure felt a hell of a lot better about the whole deal. I will give the puke-a-thon a few more hours (so far, so good since breakfast) and take her to another doctor or the Quick Care if need be.
And while I'm wearing my favorite footwear...
Do any of you read the Because I Said So blog? You know, the e-bay mom with 6 kids who is now an overnight sensation because of a pack of Pokemon cards and a funny story that sold said pack of cards for some insane amount like $200. She has a book deal now. Which is great and all but (if you like her please stop reading now)...
She really isn't that funny.
There, I said it. Now keep in mind that I do read her every few days and I understand that she is keeping all her "good" material for the books she is writing. And I know I should not be the one throwing stones since half the stuff I write either is a) not all that funny or b) about sex. But I just keep thinking to myself, "Self- see what that semi-funny woman did. You can do that too, Self. Plus you have Bitch Shoes, snark, and you are in a gang!"
If someone finds a Muse out there, I seem to be missing one.
--The Milk Maid says mecka-lecka-hi-mecka-hiney-ho!
(PS- home gym equipment)
10/9/07
Add this to the reasons I hate doctors...
Supposedly, it is humanly impossible to pass a kidney stone and not feel it squeeze its little way out. I am here to tell you that most of the time the aforementioned statement is true. I am the Exception To The Rule. My stone has magically disappeared from my right kidney--
**POOF!**
My doctor, not being known for his belief in magic or just simply letting things be, must come up with a new way for me to further fatten his wallet. Let's send her for an IVP (intravenous pyleogram- which is an X-ray test that can show the size, shape, and position of the urinary tract, including the kidneys and ureters. During IVP, a dye called contrast material is injected into a vein thru an IV in your arm. Then, a series of X-ray pictures is taken at timed intervals.)
And all this time I thought IVP was the Internet Vagina Posse.
THEN, because he can't stand NOT to fuck with SOMETHING... he will break up the other stones with that shock-wave ultrasound thingie.
Well, that's what the doctor thinks he will do. But, alas, I have foiled his evil plot. I told him to go take a flying leap- and when I needed him I'd come crawling back.
The Milk Maid says, "Dammit- I am impervious to pain!!" :::knocking on wood:::
9/28/07
All Hail Friday Mish Mash
Happy Haiku Friday to everyone-
RPNC weigh-in: 190.5 -- not bad for someone who had a bag of candy for breakfast (but it was a small bag!).
Ava has a doctor appointment in Atlanta today. We are going to speak to a plastic surgeon about removing her skin tags on her ear. Although, we've decided that we are not going to remove the tags UNLESS they are interfering with her hearing (which they are not) or there is a specific advantage to doing this procedure now instead of letting her make the decision later. They are a part of her identity, they are a part of the special little baby we love so much. They are something I would totally pierce if they were mine!
Of course, the only real reason we are going is if we don't get the referral from the insurance company now and complete all the rigmarole they set forth, then they will give us the poo-poo face at the doctor's office and the insurance company. So, hold that hoop steady cause here I come!
And did you know that there is only ONE pediatric certified plastic surgeon within 100 miles of where I live? I guess there isn't much call for toddler cheek implants and baby-botox these days. What is the world coming to?
--The Milk Maid says goobeldy goop and chimichurri.
9/26/07
Doggone That Oprah
(This post mentions SEX... if hearing that a married couple has sex bothers you, then please go look at this website about drug rehabilitation and tune in again tomorrow.)
About 6 months or so ago Jef and I watched a segment of Oprah with her pal Dr. Mehmet Oz. This guy has tons of healthy do's and don'ts... including a fascinating fact that for "every twenty pounds an obese man loses, his penis will 'grow' approximately an inch in length". After we got our grins and giggles about that little fact out of our system, I don't recall this fact coming up in our household again after that day.
Until two days ago...
You see, without being too crude, we've kept a running joke about the "Mystical and Illusive Sex-Trifecta" (That's a romp on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday... in case you were wondering). We've had some *magic* in the air as of late, and we've made the Friday/Saturday combo a lot, but usually by the time Sunday rolled around we were to pooped to pop. However, this weekend we managed a real live Sex Trifecta. And then we added a Monday on too, just for good measure.
All four nights were enjoyable. Like- "Whew! We've gotta stop this or one of us will fall over dead!" enjoyable. I mentioned to Jef on Saturday night that he was awfully, um... let's just say there was a little more length down there as of late than I remembered. In fact, there was such a noticeable difference "down there" that I was to the point of telling Jef on Sunday night to hurry up and finish, because I was uncomfortable. On Monday night, all bets were off. My girl-stuff was sore. I told him he'd better make it a quickie and go to sleep. Tuesday night, when Jef rolled over and started to breathe heavily in my ear I said, "Shoo-shoo, go to sleep. I'm asleep already. Hear me snoring? ZZzzzzz!".
Note to Jef:
No, you have not gained 2 full inches of length on Mr. Happy. Yes, he's noticeably longer, but don't get a big head, er-- large ego-- about all this. Just because I squeal doesn't necessarily mean that it is with delight. My cervix is pissed off at you right now. My uterus will not grow you another baby until you stop poking it so hard and making it say OUCH. Oh, and PS- stop squeezing my boobs so hard too. They get enough of that junk from Ava.
9/17/07
The Outing
Why I (normally) refuse to shop (or do anything) with my mother:
I was having a good morning until my mother decides to take me shopping at The Ungodly Large Proportion Mart. Once there, she wouldn't lead the way in the store... she'd be like go to this item.
I would tell her - I don't know where that item is located. She'd point and make a sour face then get mad at me, because apparently I should have the exact GPS position of every item in every store (whether I shop there or not) permanently etched into my brain. I'd wander trying to find whatever we were looking for and she was NO help. Unless you count the glaring at me as help.
Halfway through the store, she told me to get milk. I asked ,"What Kind?" to which she replied "There are no brands- just get the 2%". So I get the 2% milk with the best date on it. Of course when we get to the register it's the wrong brand. And the jug is dirty. And she wont buy it. And she makes a scene and acts an ass in front of 47 people.
So I told the checkout guy she was only doing that because I picked out the milk, and just to ignore her because she couldn't behave in public.
I don't know why she quit talking to me.
9/9/07
Wording It- aka Sunday Sillies
If you are given a complement on a skill you have mastered you normally just say "thank you", or perhaps "I have put a lot of practice into that" or even "I took a course and got a certificate for this (and was voted most popular in my class)".
However, only one response is appropriate when the comment is from your husband and the skill is something you do in the privacy of your bedroom.
Jef says "If what you do was Kung Fu, you'd be the Zen Master (er- Mistress?). Or Pai Mei from the Kill Bill II movie". While I have this magic spell cast over my dear sweets, I'm definitely taking advantage of all the amore in the air. It's amazing- I haven't even had to drag out the "Sure Fire Way To Get Laid Gown" all weekend. I haven't had to tie him down either. Not yet anyway!
We've had a lot of adventure this weekend, and amazingly we did get dressed long enough for him to take me to dinner Friday night, do some rambling Saturday, and a little shopping for Ava (and me) for the cruise today. We also watched the Solitary 2.0 Marathon last night. I'm not a huge reality TV fan, or a huge TV fan in general, but my tail was glued to the TV for hours yesterday watching that show. Locked in a tiny room and having to complete crazy, insane tasks and eat weird stuff all while being sleep deprived... sign me up, I'm your huckleberry for that one!
We (meaning Jef) are watching motorcycle racing now. Men wearing leather going around in circles... You usually have to go to Buckhead or Little Five Points for that kind of action.
Last but not least, I'm trying to track my ovulation again. Only, I don't seem to be ovulating. I don't know what is throwing my cycle off (it's been off for the past 3 months). I should be ovulating now, but instead I am having almost period-like cramps and the LH surge is nonexistent. Is my breastfeeding still throwing me off? Stress? Are the 4 different kinds of OPKs I'm using all in cahoots together and just messing with me? Who knows....
--The Milk Maid says heads up!
8/29/07
Randomness With Snark Sprinkles
Ever have one of those days where you try to read a brilliantly written article on the pros of prose and all your brain could take in was the image of a big, flashy symbol akin to a cheap neon sign flashing wordswordswords?
I have discovered that I turn Ava upside down and smell her butt an average of 5 times a day. The butt-sniffing is complete with twisted face and sing-song voice going, "Did you poopoo?!". I have also come to the realization that this is completely normal for a mother to do to her offspring. This type of action is only weird when the sniffee becomes 9 and the sniffed-bits become armpits. At least with the baby you are pleasantly surprised by a fart around half the time. With the big kid, the pits always smell like Limburger cheese.
A 9 year olds motivation to do homework is directly proportionate to the size of the threat to take away her Pokemon game. The proportion of willingness will increase by twofold if calling "the other parent/step-parent" is mentioned.
Gratuitous Link: Paris Las Vegas
Ava and I have a new bathroom game. It involves Ava taking all my tampons out of the box and then handing them to me as I say thank you. She takes them out of the box one by one, inspects it, then hands it to me. She will stay seated in her bumbo-type chair while I do my business because of this game.
The tampon game is much better than the last bathroom game she liked to play which I call "Hey you toilet paper thief, come back here! Now! I mean it!".
8/22/07
Cool New Slide
Because everyone out there in blog-land needs a good laugh today, I present to you the new slide for "well behaved children":
Whiny Child: But I don't want to do my homework mom!
Smart Mother: Fine- Go outside and ride your new slide.
This would also make a nice treat for ex-husbands, don't you think? Be sure to have them ride in the buff.
And a big thanks to our 2nd sponsor of the day: muscle milk.
--The Milk Maid says that's grate!
8/9/07
Letters From The Editor
With love,
8/1/07
Strange Phone Call
The message on my answering machine said:
"Hi, this is So-in-so from the City Hall of Ottawa, Kansas. I am trying to reach you (First Initial, Last Name) in regards to a parking ticket you received on July 17th. We have traced the tag back to you, and would like to speak to you in person regarding this ticket. Responding now to this courtesy call will allow you to pay the small fine of $5 instead of the larger fine of $25. Please mail a check today to..."
First of all I panicked. OMG when did I get a parking ticket?
Then the logical side of my brain say, "Hey you dumbass... you have never been to KANSAS!".
So it's a mistake right? But that fear still lingered. Did someone steal a tag that was mine and go park next to a fire hydrant or something? Do I have a tag on my car now?! I was at the water park in my dad's truck when I checked my messages, so I had to ride for 30 minutes to see that yes, I still have a tag attached to my car. It's the only tag I've ever had in my name, so that really narrowed that down.
I called Mrs. So-in-so. I left Mrs. So-in-so a message saying there must be a mistake, I'd be happy to discuss this with her at her convenience, and then I mentioned that I'd never, ever been to Kansas, but it sounds like a really nice place!
Of course dad had to comment on this. Of course he did, where do you think I learned my snarky ways? What'd he say?... Something to the effect of, "Did you click your red heels and fly off to Kansas and forget about it?"
My response (in my trademarked monotone never-skip-a-beat style):
"The Bitch Shoes don't have magical powers dad."
Oh yeah, and it was all a case of mistaken identity. Seems when you leave the name Aradia on someones machine all they can seem to reply is "Oh, I thought I was calling Ann [Lastname]".
--The Milk Maid says the bitch (shoe) is back with fresh snark.
