How many times have I told me friends, it's easier to ask Hubby for forgiveness rather than permission? A TON! Just ask him and he'll tell you about the goat, chickens, ducks, and cats (which I didn't get, by the way) I've finagled myself into getting for the "kids."

So when my silkie chicken hatching eggs arrived today, he was pleasantly surprised. Well, I guess "pleasantly" isn't really the right word to use but he was "surprised." No matter what he says, we DID have a conversation about allowing the little punks to go through the process of hatching eggs. We've done it before and they loved it. I liked it a little, too. OK, OK, I liked it a lot. For cryin' outloud, I'm addicted to that damn egg cam! What's a girl to do besides hatch her own?!

I can't help it if Hubby's been having senior moments lately and has a major case of CRS (can't remember schat), 'cuz that's my story and I'm sticking to it. We did talk about it, probably a long time ago - possibly before having kids - but I know I did talk to him about this current egg project. But alas, I'm still begging for forgiveness as I've surpassed the point of permission. Afterall, I just don't go for the whole permission thing anyway.

I'll post updates periodically on our little critters. If all goes well, this batch will hatch in just about three weeks or so. I'm concerned how the eggs will fair as they were shipped all the way from Georgia and the USPS totally manhandled the package and several were broke. I've had good luck in the past with shipped eggs, so keep your fingers crossed.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

My favorite little cousin asked me to snap a couple of pics of her and her boyfriend last weekend. I readily agreed because my little cuz is GAWGEOUS and I knew that it would give me some great practice. We began shooting in the house, with a few shots here and there. I was working hard to get my lighting and focus down just right and Hubby, well, he and Grandpa D were working hard at distracting me. See anything wrong with this picture? Other than it being not the greatest... Look between the lovebirds...

Thanks Hubby. You are pure, comedic genius. Stay the frick out of my photos. Anyhoo, just to prove that some of the photos turned out decent (without Hubby or Grandpa D included), here ya go:

What a sweet and patient couple they were. Even through the verbal tauntings of Hubby and Grandpa D.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

As I sat on the couch this morning, I had the opportunity to listen to Hubby carry on a few phone conversations in regards to his work. Hubby owns his own company and does BEWTIFUL work; however, the "business" aspect of the business is what causes him constant frustration. Between wages, insurance, and taxes, he's about ready to pull out what's left of his thinning hairline. We've quickly discovered that the government does not make it easy for small business owners to maintain or at least make a profit . I'm sad but not too surprised when I hear of so many new businesses going out their first year. It's an inevitable fact that most small business owners are set up for failure; practically before they even sign their first set of paychecks.

Back to the story at hand...this morning Hubby was dealing with two main issues; one being a a bill that he needed to pay and the other a policy he needed to cancel. He had attempted to at least address the bill using the Internet but stopped when they wanted to tack on various fees and charges for the "luxury" of using their website. What?! He's saving them a ton of time on processing a mailed payment? He's also acting as a defender of Mother Nature as I'm sure at least one tree was saved by his lack of envelope usage. So he called....and was told that the fees would be doubled if he paid them by phone. What?! Does that make sense? Are we paying the calltaker an extra dollar per spoken word? Needless to say, the tree was chopped and the USPS was again supported by our family.

Still stinging from the potential fees he dodged, he then placed a second call in order to cancel a policy he no longer needed. Not finding any appropriate forms on their website, he called customer service only to be told he had to draft a letter. The worst part about it, was that the representative was not forthcoming with the information he would need to write in the letter. He had to practically go over each line with her and then wait for her response as to whether or not certain information was needed. Good Lawd! Can't somebody throw that poor guy a bone?!

In this day and age of computer technology - specifically with the luxury of the Internet, you'd think more companies would get on the bandwagon and at least update some of their business practices. Let's try something new...make it easy on the consumer! Wow, what a concept! As a small business owner, that's exactly what my Hubby does; he tries to make it easy for his customer to be satisified by supplying excellent work at a reasonable price - not an easy thing to do lately especially with the rising costs of gas and supplies. It's just not fair that the favor isn't being returned by larger companies.

I guess I should be relieved that he at least doesn't need to use rice in his daily work functions... good grief, I could go on forever.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I love a good trashy romance novel. A quick read with minimal plot but lots of charisma and sexy characters will do me just fine. I keep a special basket of such books next to the toilet because it seems like the only time I have lately to read is when I'm in the privacy of my own bathroom. Even then, I'm usually accompanied by Gun-Gun who's critiquing my every move, and commenting that he's "pooh-farted" in his own potty chair. Yes, it's a glamorous life but someone has to live it.

For the most part, Hubby stays out of my basket while he's doing his business and instead, partakes amongst a new issue of some hunting magazine or Harbor Freight. Tonight, for whatever reason, he decided to delve into the forbidden basket and shower me with his own emotional reading. As I sat on my bed perusing the 'net I could hear him talking loudly through the bathroom door. My attention shifted to his voice and I could hear the familiar ramblings of my current novel, being brought to life by my amorous husband.

Initially, I was intrigued to hear his version; however, this intrigue turned to disgust once I heard the constant pausing due to his attention being drawn to other personal matters. I begged for him to stop reading, and to quit defiling both my book and the bathroom. He finally stopped and emerged from his sanctuary with a huge grin on his face.

Needless to say, I will never be able to read that certain book without the memories he provided me tonight. I guess I should appreciate the efforts he put forth into our love life but lovin' just ain't the same coming through a bathroom door.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The other morning, I noticed the house was eerily quiet. Sure, the sound of cartoons and slight chitter-chatter was going, but no Gun-Gun or Hubby. When Gun-Gun's around, you know it. Whether it be screaming, stomping, marching, or the lyrics of Run DMC's "Tricky" being sang at the top of his lungs, his presence is known. When I heard the lawnmower outside, I knew that I had found at least Hubby and that Gun-Gun was probably close by, neck deep in the mud pit he and C-dub had created in the front yard.

So I looked out the front window and this is what I saw:

I couldn't quite see if Gun-Gun was with Hubby, so I grabbed my camera and saw this:

And then a little of this:

They mowed and mowed, chatted and chatted, until the whole orchard looked as slick as a golf course. I noticed that Gun-Gun was quick to point out any spots that Hubby missed.

Gun-Gun seemed to enjoy the ride and I think Hubby did as well. Truly, a Hallmark moment ;o). Or at least photographic evidence to show them at one point in their lives, mowing was fun.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

to the *cougar* hunting Hubby at the Ray's Food Place. You gave him several looks, a couple of smiles, and perhaps even a wink or two. You practically made him feel naked in the middle of the Ethnic Foods aisle. With your beady little eyes burning a hole in his backside, he was forced to avoid any unnecessary bending, reaching, or flexing of the errant muscle. To make things worse, you then stalked him throughout the checkout line and then to the parking lot, where you continued your incessant smiling and flirting. You scared a grown man and made him feel dirty. He could see the old lady lust in the whites of your eyes and just for a moment, thought he was going to be dry humped right then and there in front of the cart corral. Thankfully, he was able to snap a quick picture of you, just before escaping in my car:

Come on! You must have looked so totally obvious for him to even notice that you were checking his goodies out. I mean, he's a man and one that's been out of the dating loop for 14+ years. Your pathetic attempts at flirting and seducing my hunk of burning love crack me up! Don'tcha know he's got three screaming kids and a bitchy wife waiting at home for him? Top all that off with a raging mortgage, noisy chickens and a pissed off one-horned goat...he couldn't be happier! And I tell him so everyday! You're happy, babe! We have a beautiful, loving, dysfunctional family! We may be a little crazy but it works for us! Here's a current picture of us with our oldest:

So go home, cougar, back to your little stinky den. Eat your Ben & Jerry's, watch that VHS of Dirty Dancing for the umpteenth time, and cry for the longing of the romance that never will be. I give you permission to salivate over the memory of my bodacious stud of a husband because memories are all that you'll have; I've got the real thing :o).

Remember, Hubby is not a:

And we don't support your kind around these parts!

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My name is (insert random name here) and I'm married to a piler. The word, "piler" refers to the man or woman who piles his or her own crap continuously, in any open area of desktop, countertop or otherwise open space, without care or concern for their bitching significant other. They appear to be deathly afraid of trash cans and recycle bins as it is very common to find their trash adjacent to its intended resting place. I'm sure many of you are faced with the dilemma of having a special piler in your life and you may even be a piler yourself. Anyway you look at it, the problem of piling is one that is more than likely worldwide, but I'm going to do my part in eradicating my hubby of this wicked disease. I strongly believe that a person who is a piler is only a step away from being a hoarder and I don't relish the thought of living with hubby and his 50 year old collection of vitamin wrappers and used snot rags (which by the way, will still be lying by the trashcan). I'm thinking about starting a support group for survivors of pilers and I'm going to call it S.H.I.T. (Supporting pre-Hoarders In Trouble). Please let me know if you're interested and I'll send you an application...hubby has a whole stack on his desk ;o).

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This is an open letter to my dear hubby, written with only compassion and understanding:

Dearest Love,

Me

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I've probably never mentioned how accident prone my hubby is. From the swimming dirt clod fight that led to a badly broken arm; to the sheep fencing building stint that led to three fingernails being painfully removed - he's done it all. He's the type of guy that should buy stock in Neosporin and Tetnus and then maybe some additional in Bandaids and Ace wrap. I'm proud to say that for better or for worse, I've been there for him through each of his "incidents." I'm known for being supportive and not making too much fun of him for the stupid thing(s) he did to wreck whatever body part.

This little history brings us to yesterday's terrifying event... I had just gotten home for work and walked into my house when I noticed that everyone seemed to be gathered around one point in the house - our master bedroom. As I walk into the room, I see a rather pastey looking hubby, lying on our bed with only his undies and a tattered t-shirt on. His mom is standing to his side and I at first think to myself, "Yeah. This is a little weird. Why the hell is he sitting there talking to him mom in his nasty drawers?"

Once I take it all in, I finally notice that he has a cut on his knee and he informs me that he had a fight with the chainsaw while attempting to cut firewood. In a quiet plea for more sympathy (with lip trembles, I might add), he tells me, "I was just trying to provide for the family" He later tells me that there was a tear in his eye during his explanation, but yeah, whatever. I then proceed to bandage up the wound the best that I can and I drive him to the ER. I can't help but have visions of the Three Stooges dancing through my head, especially the episode where one of them has the long piece of wood and whacks the other two in the head. But I digress...what a cold-hearted witch I sound like to be smiling at my hubby's fiasco.

We finally get to the ER where we're greeted by a full waiting room of patients. Due to a past life I lived, I knew several of the players, errr...I mean patients. There was Thomas the tweeker with a meth abscess on his wrist that was totally infected; Brooke the single mom with a sick baby, and a whiny fat old lady in a wheel chair that shrieked whenever someone hit or touched her foot. Her old fat hubby was so sick of her that he just parked her chair and then sat across the room to quietly read the latest addition of Good Housekeeping.

We sat there for over an hour and a half, when Taterbug (who wanted to go as a support person - but in reality the idea of stitches was sooo fascinating, especially since they weren't going in her) noticed that hubby's leg was again oozing. After a plea for more four by fours (gauze), they finally put us in a room and came in to have a look. The nurses and doctor all seemed so excited to hear that hubby had been attacked by a chainsaw. The look of disappointment was clearly visibile on their faces when they saw the actual injury. What a sick bunch of weirdos!

After another hour, the doctor came in and began the process of fixing hubby up. She matter of factly told hubby, "Ok, this is really going hurt," as she began to inject the numbing solution into the wound. And it did. He winced but held in the tears that were quickly forming in his eyes (ok, that's a little stretch but I had to add that comment in for my brother). She then deftly put in six stitches while my goofy hubby informed her that he watches "alot of ER" and that "Dr. Kovatch don't got nothin' on you." The doctor, apparently also familiar with ER, began to laugh and promptly dropped her scissors on the floor. We had to wait for a nurse to bring her a new set and hubby kept his mouth shut for the rest of the stitching.

When she was finally done, I took poor hubby home and then dragged him out to dinner with Gun-Gun. We went to a local brewery that was having a "Peanuts on the Floor" night, so the normal projectiles of chewed food that Gun-Gun likes to disperse, went unnoticed on the dirty floor. After a delicious dinner of greasy goodness, I took him home and put him to bed. It was a good day to have over.

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)