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Posted by Mommazilla at 07:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I have absolutely no Christmas spirit this year. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Nunca. I put on faux giddy face for the kidlets but in reality, I just want it to hurry up and get the hell outta here. I'm done with the fruitcakes (and I'm not talking the stale dessert kind), skinny smelly Santas who ask you to please sit on their lap, the incessant countdown questions of how many more days, minutes, seconds, miliseconds..., and if I have to re-wrap one more present because Gunny couldn't "halp himself," I'm gonna go batschat crazy. Seriously.

Argh. I need a vacation from Christmas vacation. Somewhere preferably where a fat man in a red suit has absolutely no pull on the local economy. Any ideas?

Anyhoo, I'm sure I'm not alone in this sentiment, or perhaps I am. Whatever the case, I'm going to barricade myself up in my house until this merry season of candy canes, eggnog, and yule logs pass over and I'm once again faced with a house that is relatively sane and free from tinsel in the litter box. Don't ask.

Some truly tasteless videos for your Christms enjoyment:

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I picked this title in honor of my buddy G who is currently in Vegas after having watched Britney Spears in concert. Go G!!! Bring me back a litte crazy! It's also fitting becase I went and got inked again by Darren Arney of Arney's Tattoo and Body Piercing Studio located on Fortuna Blvd. Just like last time, he did a fabulous job and I love it.

It's a fairy with the Latin phrase, "Alis Volat Propriis" which translates to "she who flies with her own wings." It's also the Oregon state motto, although that's not the reason I chose it ;-). For me, this one hurt a lot worse than my leg tattoo but I'm addicted and ready to start planning my next.

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

It's been one of those weeks. Here are some random thoughts from it:

1. "Don’t use your words as weapons." I said this to Taters as she was beating Gunny over the head with her newest book order purchase.

2. On the topic of the ellusive Death Worms (as told by C-dub after watching a monster show on the Discovery Channel): Lesson #1 - NEVER lay on the sand as they might crawl out and eat your hand. Lesson #2 - NEVER put your head on the ground as they might eat your brain. Lesson #3 - NEVER lay down on the sand cause they might drag you into their Death Worm hole. I still don't know what the hell a Death Worm is and I'm thinking I better regulate his TV watching consumption.

3. "I'm too awergic to pick up toys, Momma." This was Gunny's reply when told to clean up the livingroom.

4. "Mom, anger is like taking a dump. It feels better when you let a little bit go at a time." Tater's explanation and scolding after I lost it when Gunny wrote in red felt pen on the hallway wall.

5. "I hope you're starting your Xanax and Valium consumption." The last words I said to Gunny's new "pre" preschool teacher. More on that topic to come...

6. "But Momma! I don't wanna let my poops swim in dah watah!" Potty training isn't going so well. Just ask Grandpa D who had to change Gunny four times in two hours due to some "scharting" issues. He's gonna end up going to his Senior Prom in Depends. I just know it.

7. "Tight jeans, double d's makin' me go 'whoo hoo' !" Include lots of spittle with the fake whistle at the end (Starstruck by 3OH3!). My innocent little boys are addicted to this terrible song thanks to a hunting trip with their father. C-dub has also developed a love for "Fists and Jager" by the Moonshine Bandits. I'm so proud. I'm working on his flannel shirts and torn Wranglers right now.

8. "I swear I'm gonna bring him back!" Screamed and texted at me as Gunny squished all the items in Hubby's Safeway cart. I ignored it and pretended I was single without children. Wrong number!

9. "You're not that old. I Googled you!" Told to me by a student in one of my classes. Lovely, it's great to know I'm not that old and I could be so easily Googled. Better check to make sure my early Playboy pics are gone...

10. "Mom! This costume would match your stripper shoes perfectly!" This statement was blurted out by Taters while Halloween costume shopping. I don't believe I've told that Vegas story yet. Stay tuned :-).

How was your week? Anything to add?

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I wandered over to the fair yesterday, dragging my family along for the ride. Because I'm still high on cotton candy, fudge, and some stale popcorn, I've decided to list my observations in a Top Ten list. In no particular order:

1. Why do people bring their dogs to the fair only to leave it in the car? I'm not talking about a little dog either. We had a Subaru pull up next to use with a gorgeous Weimaraner in the backseat. The 20ish looking driver hopped out of the car, cracked the four windows, and told the dog, "Sorry girl! You can't go in!" and then left the poor thing in the car. Ridiculous! Leave your mutts at home!

2. There were a lot of pukers this year. Everywhere I turned, someone was losing it in a garbage can, back of aride, or just down the midway. I'm a sympathetic puker so I did my best to avoid the vomit comets.

3. The $7 curly fries rocked - as usual. Nothing tastes better than a potato that's been curled up with a power tool.

4. I ended up with one first, a second and two thirds on my photography. I purposely looked for the biddy photos and discovered that her "unstackable" print didn't even place. Tee hee....

5. I'm going to prepay for tickets and armbands next year. It cost my family $24 to get in, $50 for armbands, and then about another $30 for junk food. I know I could save about $10 should I choose to plan ahead, but $10 is $10 - or three coffees at Starbucks :-).

6. It was great people watching this year. I especially loved the return of tight Levis, snakeskin boots, and mullets - and this was all on the same person.

7. The carnies weren't too unpleasant this year. The teeth to smile ratio still wasn't too high but most seemed clean and not under the influence while operating the heavy equipment. They were also playing fabulous music and I got my yearly dose of Danzig and Pink Floyd.

8. My kids were bummed they couldn't win a $10 goldfish to go with their $10 Fortuna Carnival goldfish. Can you believe that thing is still alive? Inconceivable!

9. There were a ton of hugely pregnant woman waddling around. Maybe I just notice the prego bellies becuse I think they're beautiful, but seriously, what the heck was everyone doing about seven months ago? Get a hobby! I think my baby fever has finally subsided with the realization that Gunny is sprouting horns rather than a halo.

10. And finally, it was nice to see such a good turnout at the fair. There were a ton of cars, lotsa people, and thousands of smiles. I think people were having a good time - including my family who's ride armbands were frayed by the time we left. Good times - my kids' brains are still fizzy from the Tornado.

Did you go to the fair? How was your time spent?

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Because of my work schedule this week, lack of sleep, and otherwise out of this world consumption of caffeinated products and chocolate, today's posting will be a rambling list of observations. Bear with me :-)

1. I was informed by Taters that by telling your brother to hang salami on his ears in order for you to play hide-n-go-seek with him, is blackmail - not torture.

2. I bought a my first Blackberry and it's quickly taught me that I'm technologically stupid. The worse part is that I'm beginning to use the camera on it far more than my nice camera. And the pictures I'm taking? Completely lame but so much fun to send off and assault the visual senses of my friends.

3. I told Gunny today that we had run out of string cheese. He promptly screamed at me, "Oh tartar sauce!" I guess it's better than his usual, "gawd damwit!"

4. Piper the hyper decided to eat the whole plate of wet catfood rather than sharing it with Gracie. She did so by bringing half of it into my bed, on her paws and face, and leaving it in wet chunky streaks across my freshly laundered bedspread.

5. People are weird. I watched a gal drive thru Eureka the other day, with her passenger hanging out the window dumping out a gallon of milk onto the pavement. She was waving to passing cars and acting like she was sobbing. I guess she was proving that you can in fact, cry over spilt milk.

6. It was a full moon last night and the past couple of days have given us beautiful sunsets and awesome clouds. Too bad I've forgotten my camera each time.

7. I'm super excited at the prospect of traveling to Vegas in September. My sis-in-law and partner in crime is getting hitched and I might get to photograph the festivities. But then again, is photographic evidence the best thing in Vegas? However, I will be behind the camera and therefore, not in print...hmmm...

8. I watched with some interest, about the two reporters who were recently freed from North Korea. When one of the women commented that the first thing she saw when they opened the door to freedom was Bill Clinton, I think I personally may have slammed that door shut.

9. I got my first photo job based off my business card. I'm excited, nauseated, scared, eager, blah, blah, blah. I need to get off my arse and figure out what I'm gonna do with that expensive camera.

10. Gunny's latest addiction is armpit "fawts." I put my hand in his armpit while he wild flails around making fleshy fart sounds. Family bonding.

11. My photos are being judged this week (Humboldt County Fair). I'm a little nervous but more excited.

12. I ordered two new purses from Wilson's Leather. Like a fanatic, I've been checking my tracking number everyday. I can't believe I get so excited over purses. Geesh, I must be getting old.

13. I'm a total music addict lately. If you haven't checked it out, go to Pandora.com. You can pick the music you like, stream it, and it's completely free. Love it!

14. I had a "WTF?" moment after reading about the Pennsylvania gym shooting. Can we not be safe anywhere?

15. I'm so flippin' excited for school to start. Now if I could only find a home for Gunny for six hours a day. Maybe they'll be able to finally potty training him ;-).

How's your week going?

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

This is one of my favorite childhood stories. Now that I have some new readers, I thought I would share it again in order to provide some more psychological abuse!

Have you ever had a childhood memory, that when you really thought about it, was just a little weird? It seems like I have quite a few of those but this particular memory is well, disturbing. And, it's guaranteed to probably buy me a space in Hell, especially after Uncle R reads about his involvement and realizes I'm giving up a family secret that should have died ages ago.

When I was a little girl, my paternal grandmother was a breast cancer survivor. She was faced with getting a mastectomy and back then, reconstructive surgery really wasn't an option so women were supplied with prosthetic breasts. My grandmother's big round squishy breast was kept in the top drawer of her vanity. I don't know why she kept it in a drawer rather than in her blouse, but then again, sometimes Grandma liked to drink her dinner rather than eat it.

Uncle R and I both knew where she kept her booby prize and would often peek in the drawer to check it out, occasionally poking it with a curious finger. We each had a thing for its silky, squishy texture and we would prod it for hours (kind of like a kid's stress reliever ball - but weirder). We eventually got braver and on some days, we freed the little critter from its dark abyss, in order to just hold it for a few minutes of guilty pleasure.

One day, while Uncle R and I were visiting Grandma, we found her lone hooter lying on the bathroom counter, looking rather forlorn and lost. Our little brains worked in symphony and mischievous thoughts raced through our heads; a game of hot potato would certainly entertain her little friend while providing us with hours of endless enjoyment. Back and forth, side to side, we flung that cantaloupe size piece of squishy fun into the air, all the while listening for any evidence that Grandma might be stumbling up the creaky steps. Hearing nothing, our quiet chuckles quickly turned into gut busting belly laughter that echoed throughout the second floor bathroom. Over and over, we pelted each other with the voluminous sphere, until we were left with fresh red abrasions wherever our tender skin was exposed.

I don’t know how long Grandma was watching before she finally cleared her throat and made it known that she did not approve of our new sports activity, however, I’m guessing it was for awhile – judging by the sting left on our little butts and the threat of a “report” being made to our dad. All in all, Grandma never did make the dreaded “report” to our dad and we were let off with a warning. It never really stopped us from periodically checking in on our new little buddy, but we certainly never allowed it to become airborne again.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Judging by the sound of country music, racing ATV's and the whoopin' and hollerin' coming from the neighbors, I suspect rodeo week has hit the town of Fortuna. As I sat here today, editing endless wedding photos from a June shoot, I watched a bazillion jacked up trucks pass by my house, stuffed full of cowboy and cowgirls, heading on over to the world's best neighbor's house. I really love my neighbor, but this time of year causes the man to go a bit insane. We're talking tents in the front yard, tons of picnic tables with last years booze and food still stuck to the tops, Garth Brooks screaming over his stereo speakers, endless amounts of Natural Ice, and of course, drunk cowboys and cowgirls showing the Valley how to live it up.

I carefully watched him today, out in the front yard with twenty of his best friends, setting up temporary Humboldt condos. He caught my eye and offered to put some tents up in our yard. I smiled, thanking him for his thoughtfulness and promptly turned him down. If his three day party is anything like it was last year, I expect to look out my livingroom window and seem him at some point, passed out cold on a picnic table while the rest of the revelers continue to party and dance around him. It's kinda like something from "Lord of the Flies" - some sort of redneck spiritual revelry that I simply do not understand.

I anticipate the happenings to pick up full force once Friday hits and the ATV riders get ready for the Quadiator event at the rodeo arena. What could be better than excessive amounts of alcohol, too much testosterone, and men with bats chasing other men with balloons on their head, in an effort to pop the balloon? Nothing I can think of! Whoever thought of this event is a pure genius and I thank him or her for the entertainment. It's sure to get the party started.

Well, enough complaining for now. I need to go find a clean pair of Daisy Dukes, my favorite beer koozie, and of course, some fresh possum meat to bring for the BYORK (Bring Your Own Road Kill) BBQ at the neighbors'. Heck, if you can't beat'em, JOIN'EM!

Posted by Mommazilla at 06:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

We took the kids on a quick jaunt to Redding over the weekend. Since Hubby had to work late, we ended up taking two different cars, with me ending up with the three munchkins. My kids are normally good travelers, but it's still about 50/50 if you will see vomit on our drives. I have very sympathetic pukers, so we make sure to take our time and make frequent stops.

Prior to leaving for the trip, Hubby and I decided not to tell the monsters about the trip. It's so hard to let them know in advance because if we do, each day is broken down into twenty million questions about when we're leaving, how many more days, about how many minutes until, and so on. It drives us freakin' bonkers. I scurried about the house, hiding bags, dodging questions about missing swimsuits, and otherwise trying to be a mommy ninja. It worked and they were only informed of the trip when they got into the car and saw two sheets of Chuck E. Cheese coupons waiting for them. It doesn't take long for Chuck E. Cheese hints to set in.

The ride went great and we only had to stop once; the double dose of Triaminic did wonders. The first place we hit was In-N-Out where C-dub proclaimed it was the "bestest" food he'd ever tasted. He was so enchanted with the burgers and fries he proclaimed the place should win some sort of food award, as he was walking out the front door. Before the food could settle in and the kids (or I, for that matter) could get full, we raced over to Coldstone Creamery and partook amongst the world's best ice cream. They have a new flavor called Chocolate Cake Batter. If you love the original cake batter flavor and you even remotely enjoy chocolate, drop what you're doing now and go. Run, swim, power walk, or drive, and do what it takes to get your arse to Coldstone. It was that good.

After rolling ourselves out of Coldstone, we checked into the hotel and I took a quick scan of the swimming pool area. There were only a handful of guests, so I decided it was safe to break out my swimsuit with the kiddies. You wanna see it? I know you do. It's only natural to be curious...

I looked good...

The hotel had a really nice swimming pool, big hot tub, and a fun toddler pool that stayed oddly warm no matter what time of day. Plus, they had pool side bar service which I decided to try out once I had Hubby there as parental back-up.

Once my mermaid and mermen were done swimming, we headed back up to the room to wait for Hubby to arrive. I herded the kids into the bathroom to de-chlorinate themselves. As Gunny walked across the bathroom, I noticed he was leaving a little blood trail. He noticed too and instantly started to yell, "Momma! I'm bledding on dah floor!" He had previously cut one of his little toes and the wound had reopened up during his backstroke.

While applying pressure and trying to talk him into the benefits of a band aid, I heard Taters start to cough. During last weekend's camping trip, she had developed a nasty head cold that result in a lasting seal bark which sometime violently triggered her gag reflex. I walked back into the bathroom just in time to see her upchucking her Coldstone. I lunged forward and helf her hair back - all the while pretending I was in laying out on a white sands beach in Mexico with a bucket of chilled Coronas.

C-dub, who was still lounging in the tub, seemed to not even notice his bleeding brother and gagging sister. Rather, when the chaos settled down, he asked me, "Mom, why is der a naked yady staring at me?"

I did a double take and followed his gaze from his seated position in the tub, and this is what I saw:

A rather crispy edged, 2008 Playboy, probably placed there by some little perverted teenage boy, trying to hide his bath time fun from Momma. C-dub was very interested in what I was going to do with the Playboy, so I threw it up on the top shelf in the closet. Hopefully, I could share some love with the next family with small children - just as we had experienced.

Once I contained the blood, puke, and mild porn, I left Hubby several text messages advising him of the liquor I would need in order to proceed with the weekend. He happily obliged me and arrived at our room just prior to midnight. What a friggin' relief.

The next morning, we made our way to the Turtle Bay Exploration Park and Sundial Bridge. This is the second time we have visited Turtle Bay and we love it there. Lots of exhibits, tons of things to see and do with the kids, and excellent air conditioning provide for a super fun time. When we visited this time, they had a special viewing of "Sue" the T-Rex:

They also had an awesome exhibit of Lego structures:

And his butt (ha!):

After the indoors stuff, we visited some of the outside exhibits, including the aviary. I think this was probably C-dub's and Tater's favorite spot. I love birds but having this many birds in one spot and all the aerial poop freaked me out a tad. I also kept get accosted or molested (not sure which one applies) by a little red parrot who loved my camera. Here's the little perv:

And his little pervy friends:

You could buy little feed sticks for a $1, and the little suckers quickly became your best friends:

We then went to my favorite place which is the butterfly house. It's a big greenhouse type setting and there are butterflies everywhere! C-dub is not too big on the butterfly scene, so he guided up through with the butterfly information sheet the worker provided to us. By the time we left, he proclaimed himself to be an expert on butterfly identification.

My favorite shot of the day - found outside the butterfly house!

Prior to leaving, we walked across Sundial Bridge. It has a frosted glass bottom which makes it very interested yet terrifying to walk across:

I gave Taters my back-up camera to shoot with. We fought all afternoon for shots, but I let her have this one :-):

After we left Turtle Bay, we spent a few hours being tormented at Chuck E. Cheese. The kids had a blast and we were all exhausted by the time we got back to the room. Unfortunately, the sight of the pool was similar to what a shot of caffeine might do and the kids were once again raring to go. And that's pretty much how we spent the rest of the weekend - in and out of the pool. It was a fun weekend but I'm so glad we're home. I think our traveling is done for the summer - at least until hunting season opens.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I'm so excited...tomorrow we're leaving for a three night, four day camping trip in God's country (Petrolia - in case you didn't know). We haven't been anywhere as a family for a long time, probably since last year's camping trip:

It's funny how difficult and time consuming planning for a camping trip can be; I've made two separate trips to Safeway this week alone, just for our "simple" camping trip. Unlike our more sophisticated friends, we've yet to make the jump to a trailer or camper and we stick to our two room tent and ten layers of padded flooring. The kids dig it and I actually don't mind it. It's amazing to take the "ceiling" off at night and look at the shooting stars - or maybe they're just passing satellites - but who really cares 'cuz they still look pretty nifty. Try doing that in your RV!

I'm actually having a little anxiety about this trip because it was my idea to go in the first place. I tend to be the one who stays at home on major holiday weekends but I knew with the upcoming events, this might be the only long weekend we'd have available for camping. I'm hoping things aren't too crazy and that our fellow campers can tolerate our redneck ways for a couple of days at least.

Hopefully, there will be no public displays of nudity like last year:

And certainly, no more debauchery with water balloons in the sports bra:

Or complete messes made of adorable faces:

Things might be gettin' a bit ugly (again) this year but it will be fun. What are your plans for the 4th? Are you crazy like us and braving the crowds? Or, do you prefer a quiet evening at home, blowing off your digits with family?

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

At a loss for a complete story, here are some Tuesday ramblings for ya...

1. Taters has recently developed a longing to cook some Tilapia. The problem is, she hates fish and she only got the dang idea off of a Nintendo DS game. She recently told me, "Mom, I think I'm gonna start trying to eat more fish this summer. I'm gonna make myself not think about those little things swimming in a bath of their own filth and breathing in their own pee and poop." Then she suddenly reconsidered, "Um, yeah, like that will ever happen Mom!" I guess my kitchen is safe for now.

2. We visited Ocean World (Crescent City) over the weekend. While waiting for the big kids to pet the sharks, I suddenly felt a tug at my pant leg and heard Gunny say, "Mommy, can ya hold dis?" As I looked down, I saw him half naked, handing me his jacket and t-shirt, all the while slowly trying to put his leg over the edge of the shark tank. Gunny, we don't swim with the sharks; we just pet them. Gosh he's fast.

3. Wally World sucked this weekend. I'm not sure what they're doing (I've heard rumors of a grocery section to be added) but I was very disappointed in what they had to offer - or should I say, didn't have to offer. It was still fun taking the kids out for a quick trip and nobody threw up, which was truly a bonus.

4. I brought Hubby into the current day and age with a brand new iPod for Father's Day. Then I loaded it with 100 of Taterbug's favorite prepubescent songs. Bwahahahaha!!!

5. I almost set myself up for the "big talk" with Taters this weekend after explaining that Rocky Mountain Oysters did not hold urine. Blame stupid Guy Fieri and his show, Guys Big Bite, for providing me with one of the most uncomfortable car rides. EVER.

6. Roller skates are hard to locate in Humboldt. I'm going to have to order my white leather, pink wheeled beauties off of a Amazon. I'm sure my feet will be way too pretty for Roller Derby.

7. This week marks the end of Taterbug's jazz dance classes. They are having a huge production and this week's dress rehearsals have truly shown me that I don't have an ounce of girl left in me. I can't wield a curling iron to save my life, nor can I create proper high pony tails combined with perfect little girl make-up. I guess the pageant lifestyle is out for us. What a bummer.

8. The whole John and Kate Plus 8 fiasco is really bothering me. I guess the producers are putting their show on hiatus but the damage is already done and those poor kids will never be the same. I used to watch the show when the kids were smaller, but as they got older and the relationship changed between mom and dad, I honestly felt uncomfortable watching it. It was too voyeuristic - I didn't like watching a couple who were predictably, starting to implode. Blech. I hope the network provides some excellent counseling options.

9. I had a wonderful anniversary breakfast of Coke and pre-cooked bacon - on our finest china. Thank you children.

10. Ed McMahon died. RIP.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I dropped off my nine photograph entries at the Redwood Acres Fair today. After stupidly leaving them in the car for six hours, they were a little warped but still in presentable shape - kinda like me. I honestly don't know why I do the fair circuit, I mean you have to pay them to show off your stuff. Heck, I don't even sell my stuff or really charge people yet so it's pretty much to no avail that I'm doing this and I know that my pocketbook will not reap the benefits of my hard work.

Why? Why do I put myself through the stress? What is the driving force behind me entering these contests? Let's be honest for a sec, it's a huge ego stroke. Even if I don't place, it makes me feel good to show off what I've been working so hard in. I can slap my husband in the noggin' with a dose of, "See! That $400 lens was worth the honorable mention dollar store ribbon!" Seriously, that's all it takes anymore. Sad but so very true and I bet I'm not alone.

After being a wife, mom, and employee, it's easy to forget who you are as a person. Darn, I even forget who I am but that maybe just a side effect of lack of caffeine. The good thing about photo competitions is they won't let you be anonymous. Your identity is demanded and sometimes rewarded. I don't win ribbons based on being a good mom or wife, or because my kids were doing something absolutely adorable in the shot, it's because I took a good picture. Me. I did a good job. How often do you hear that? I bet most people don't say it or even hear that nearly as much as they should.

I'll continue to do my two fairs a year and then show some of my prints in small local shows, all the while realizing that I'll never be rich or even famous because of my art. But, my ego will be rewarded and this little push will keep me expanding upon the hobby I have grown to love. And it's my art. Something I've created and will forever have to document this time of my life. What a better way to find yourself and show yourself off by doing something you truly enjoy. I know that recognition is not important but it sure is nice once in awhile.

And to everyone reading this, hear is your daily affirmation, courtesy of Mommazilla:

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Freedom is not free

I watched the flag pass by one day,
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Service man saluted it,
And then he stood at ease.

LCDR Kelly Strong, USCG - Copyright 1981

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I've been a blog slacker due to a hideous work schedule combined with three days of photo shoots. I can say, without a doubt, that I will never be a child photographer. But enough about that. Here's some videos for your mindless enjoyment!

And because this has been such a "burning" topic lately, here's some history for ya:

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Too all the moms out there, have a wonderful Mother's Day!

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Humboldt County is currently trying to find a new coroner and the Humboldt County Board of Supervisors recently published the 14 applications they received and approved. The public, in-session interviews begin on Monday, May 11th, and they are accepting public comments about the applicants (prior to the interviews).

I personally thought this was fascinating reading and it quickly made me understand that I had no clue what a coroner actually does. I thought the coroner was the person who actually performed the autopsies and so on but after reading the applications and realizing that many of them had no experience in the medical field, I decided to do a little Googling to better inform myself. From what I gather, the Coroner is the administrator for the department and they oversee the medical professionals that come in to to do the CSI sorta stuff. It's a huge responsibility and I hope the Board of Supervisors find a great candidate.

For your reading pleasure, here is our Humboldt County Coroner's website's mission statement:

Investigates all deaths reportable to the coroner; safeguards property of the deceased; notifies and counsels next of kin; conducts inquests; administers estates; provides burial for indigent persons.

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was tagged by Bri over at her blog, Such Is My Life. I'm supposed to give you eight answers to eight different things so be prepared for 64 statements of awesomness! Ok, not really awesome but maybe interesting - if you're a family member at least.

8 Things I'm looking forward to:

1. Re-financing our mortgage.
2. The end of potty training.
3. My 11 year wedding anniversary.
4. The Poison/Def Leppard/Cheap Trick concert. Aqua Net anyone?
5. Retirement
6. Economy stabilization - if that ever happens.
7. Hunting season (I don't hunt but I do shop. Hubby gone = children gone = happy momma)
8. Starting my photo business.

8 Things I did yesterday:

1. Thought about blogging but didn't do it.
2. Worked
3. Ate. A lot.
4. Slept terrible.
5. Kissed my kids.
6. Kissed the Hubby.
7. Worked some more.
8. Smacked the cats. They deserved it, really.

8 Things I wish I could do:

1. Win the lottery.
2. Chill out.
3. Be pregnant again with a sweet little angel that isn't a one man demolition derby who resents the potty.
4. Go to Ireland.
5. Spend more quality time with Hubby - sans children.
6. Write a book that's been kicking around in my head for years.
7. Spend more individual quality time with each of the kidlets.
8. Break dance. Well, maybe. * insert Butterfly Twist and an Insane Corkscrew here*

8 Shows I watch:

1. Law and Order
2. Chowder (not always by choice)
3. Dexter
4. Trueblood
5. Rock of Love (Think of it as homework for my concert.)
6. I Love Money
7. Deadliest Catch
8. Ax Men

8 Songs on my music player:

1. After Party - Ozomatli
2. Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon
3. Zero - Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs
4. Ghetto Love - Spinnerette
5. Love My Family - The Roots
6. Bad Girl - Danity Kane
7. Mojo - Peeping Tom
8. Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stoneage

8 Favorite warm weather activities:

1. Camping
2. Taking fun pictures.
3. Gardening
4. Swimming
5. Visiting Petrolia and Punta Gorda light house.
6. Margarita making and drinking.
7. Rummage sales
8. Topless sunbathing. This is Hubby's request but it just ain't gonna happen.

8 Favorite Happy Things:

1. Sharing the bed with three clean and sweet smelling little children.
2. Sitting by a campfire with Hubby and discussing life with cold beers in hand.
3. Watching the kittens play and wrestle.
4. Glass bottom kayaks in Cozumel.
5. My children's belly laughs without any trouble attached.
6. A three course meal: In-N-Out, Coldstone Creamery, popcorn at the movies.
7. Girl's Night Out where anything goes and lips are sealed ;-).
8. Whiterock Resort, a private hot tub, and three happy children willing to spend three days couped up without the internet or TV.

8 People I tag:

Jen
Jennifer
Bobbi
Beth
Tracey
Debbie
John
Deanna

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

On Tuesday, I took the kidlets to Rio Dell to meet their new dentist, Dr. Shin. I had heard so many good things about him from other friends and family, that I decided to switch the whole family over. It only took one visit to show me what a cool guy Dr. Shin is and make me happy to have done the big hassle of switching over dental records. Not only is he extremely personable and friendly, but he doesn't make you feel like a total dumbass when you make the dreaded admittance that you and your kids don't floss on a regular basis. I know, I know, but I'm working hard to change my ways.

Gunny seemed to like Dr. Shin, as well. He kept calling him "that guy" and every time Dr. Shin got close, Gunny would put on his best smile in an attempt to show Dr. Shin his "sparkalies." However, the smile quickly went away as soon as the doctor pulled out his little mirror and asked to count Gunny's teeth. It was a quick counting session but Gunny was wise to the cleaning plan and refused to open up his pie hole for anything motorized.

After we left the dentist, I promised the kids a spin through the Redwood Mini Golf. Initially, both C-dub and Taters hesitated to take Gunny because they were fearful of him packing a golf club. I had to crack up that I thought I had also thought twice about Gunny being in posession of a weapon. I assured them I would keep a close eye on the little heathen.

For the five of us It cost $15 (kids under 4 play free) to play 18 holes of golf. Since the wind was whipping through my hair at about 85mph, complete with an arctic chill, our session only lasted about 15 minutes. But let me tell you, it was a lot of fun. I was expecting a cheeseball, half-assed course but instead found very solidly built and well designed holes. They are currently working putting in a food stand and I'm thinking it might be a great place to hold a summer birthday. Snotsicles aren't my thing so I think we'll avoid the winter and the weather we caught the other day.

If we would have had more time, I would have hit the Pizza Factory for some of their great tasting pizza. The people in there super duper nice and their salad bar rocks. Plus, they have one of those junk crane machines that the kids love. For $5 in quarters, I can almost eat a complete meal in peace. It's amazing the things you'll do for warm food.

All in all, Rio Dell is a pretty cool place to live and visit. Stop by when you get a chance; they have a lot to offer.

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I consider this place to be one of the coolest spots to visit quackers. Do you know where it is?

In color:

And black/white:

And to the very nice lady we met at Safeway today, who recognized my kidlets and said "hi," thanks so much for reading. You really made our day!

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Wow, and to think we weren't even trying. I can't believe #4 will be joining us in about seven months. My parents and in-laws don't even know yet, but I guess if they are reading today's posting, they'll figure it out.

It's so crazy, but I'm alreay having these funky cravings for Carl's Jr. hamburgers and hard liquor. I've also been watching old episodes of "Night Rider" and "Baywatch" non-stop. The prego hormones are even causing me to have that "Hooked on A Feeling" song stuck in my head - ooga chakka, ooga, ooga, ooga chakka!

It's going to be a crazy pregnancy. Wish me luck!

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Happy April Fool's Day! Remember, don't hassle the Hoff.

Posted by Mommazilla at 01:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

What kind of "fur" gets your fire going? Hubby saw this sign while we were getting gas and I had to take a pic!

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm one of those anal people who actually look forward to receiving their monthly PG&E bills. Don't get me wrong, it's not because I necessarily love paying it, because I honestly don't; it's because I want to see how much I was able to lower it as compared to the last month and the year's previously monthly bill. It makes my heart do flip-flops and quivers of joy when I can look and see that I've save $25, $50 or even $100 over what I'd previously paid. It doesn't happen very often but as you can see, it really floats my boat when it does occur.

Yesterday, I received my friendly little e-mail indicating that I had a new online statement available. I chose to do everything online so I can save the trees and prevent paper cuts to my tongue by having to mail a bill. Yes, I have cut my tongue before and the thing bleeds like a mother. I'm sure the billing department doesn't appreciate the hazardous waste envelope created from my mutilated flesh.

I clicked on the little icon that opened up the e-mail and waited for the magical numbers to appear. And they did...

$513.31

Oh...my....frickin'....GAWD! I had to seriously sit down and release a few expletives. I've NEVER had a PG&E bill so atrociously high. NEVER. Not even when I had so many Christmas lights in my front yard that Hubby made me take them down for fear of a small plane landing in our yard. The bill was almost two and a half times what it was last month!

I immediately phoned Hubby and in between gasps and sputters, told him how much the bill was. After he had his own spasm episode, he told me that he had seen the meter reader at our house earlier during the month. He said it was funny to watch her because she never even left her truck. She sat there with a pair of binoculars and read the meter from the comfort of her Ford Ranger. Wow.

Was it the chickens?

Or maybe the chicken crap all over the driveway?

Perhaps my 60 pound lump of brown chocolate fat dog was passed out on the front porch?

Whatever the case, she did not get out of her vehicle to visually inspect my meter and now I have a $500+ bill. Could it be a coincidence? I think not.

Hubby called customer service (it was in his name) and they had him go out and give the reading on the meter. Wow, go figure... It didn't match the numbers in their system. After knocking over $200 off of our bill (which, in my opinion, is still way too high), the pains in his chest subsided and the sweat stopped dripping from his brow. The customer service agent explained to Hubby that we would be getting new meters next month that should take the human error out of the equation. I understand that people can make mistakes, but after all the crap we've been through with gimpy lately, this one just takes the cake.

So please, check your PG&E bill. You may have been the victim of the drive-by meter reader and her less than perfect binocular reading. Thanks for the mini-stroke and heart palpitations, PG&E. If you knew Hubby's medical track record, you wouldn't be pulling crap like this.

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Our buddy, M, passed away on Saturday. We received a tearful call from F this morning, asking that we take down the ramp that Hubby built. It went without saying that he had passed on. I'm so sad said for F but on the other hand, I'm very relieved that he's no longer in pain. It's crazy how many emotions a passing can bring about.

The world lost a great man on Saturday; the angels better be ready...

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ugh. I woke up today with a sore throat and body aches comparable to the pain from Swedish massage gone wrong. Not that I've ever had one but I can only imagine after having read this story.

I feel like a steaming pile of crap with an emphasis on the steaming aspect, as I'm pretty sure I have a fever. I'm flushed, sweaty, and entirely glowing way too much for it to be considered sexy. It looks like nuclear fission is occuring in my molecules and it's just ugly. Ugly-sexy. I like that. I'm the true epitome of a hot mess.

For whatever reason, I usually like to take my temperature when I'm feeling down. I think it's the ultimate validation that yes world, I am sick. Listen here everyone, my body is one step closer to death and I deserve unwavering sympathy from all those in my household. The magical little cells in my body are fighting a civil war in order to protect me from impending doom.

Anyhoo, we have a community digital thermometer that Taters has also taken a liking too. She regularly takes her temperature whenever she feels a bit off, and then tries to finagle a way out of going to school due to a spike or rapid lowering of her temperature. It usually doesn't work so well for her but I give her an "A" for her medical effort.

Today I decided to break out the trustworthy thermometer and asked Taters where she had last left it. Of course, she knew the hidden location of her favorite medical tool and brought it to me with a smile. She loves playing nurse and I normally just go along with it. It buys me more time in bed when I just wanna die.

As I powered it up and prepared to plop it in my mouth, she and I casually chatted about what my possible ailment might be. My head was pounding but I appreciated her devotedness to my well being.

Taters: You know Mom, it's probably a virus. Those are the worse kinds to get.
Mommazilla: Maybe, but it's probably just a cold. I'm impatiently waiting for the thermometer to power up and give me the appropriate sequence of "I'm ready for your ick mouth" beeps.
Taters: Mom, have you thought about trying to take your temperature in your armpit?
Mommazilla: Not really thinking about her question because the stupid thermometer is taking way too long. Nah, I'll just do it the old fashioned way. You're 'sposed to add or take away a degree if you stick it in your pit, and my mind is not capable of simple math right now.
Taters: Oh, o.k. It's pretty easy to do if you wanna. It doesn't tickle too bad.
Mommazilla: I'm good, kiddo. Plus, this is the thermometer everyone sticks in their mouths. I don't think you guys wanna taste my armpit.

The dang thermometer is still giving me grief as of this point and I automatically begin to shake it. Remembering that it's not the good old mercury filled piece of heaven, I press the button again and begin grumbling. Perhaps it was operator error or maybe, just maybe, a higher power was looking out for me, as Taters stops me with this comment:

Taters: Looking rather amused.... Oops! That's funny mom! I've always stuck it in my armpit. But don't worry, I taste deelishaasshh!!

I hand the thermometer back to Taters and tell her I'm suddenly feeling a little better. If I can muster up the energy to bathe tomorrow, we'll be going to Walgreens to buy a "mouth only" thermometer. Gross. At least it never made its way into the threshold of my mouth.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

....From my buddy, Lisa, at Just Lisa, No Filler. She's been given the chance to ask me any five questions and then I'll return the favor to any readers of my blog who want to be grilled by muah.

Thanks for agreeing to be interviewed! Here are your questions:

1. When did you start blogging? What caused you to start?

I started blogging a little over a year ago after a significant job change. I felt so much relief and renewal of myself as a whole that I decided to start putting my thoughts down on the web. Plus, it was a great way for me to stay in touch with my old work buddies. Blogging can be such a personal release even if it's at the expense of yourself, friends, and family (just jokin' - but I will throw myself down on occasion).

2. I am a fan of your photography. Any plans in the works of making a coffee table book filled with pictures from Humboldt County?

Hehe...Nope, Kym should think seriously about this, though. My pictures will end up in family calendars 'cuz I just can't imagine the general public wanting a calendar with shots like this:

or like this:

3. Think back (maybe WAY back) to when you had a free Saturday with no plans. How did you spend the day?

Geez, this is gonna be hard. I think if that day ever did exist, it was probably a summer Saturday. More than likely, I spent it outside chasing half naked children around in the sprinkler and watching them slip-n-slide on our Redneck water slide (large tarp at the base of the swingset - cheap and effective).

4. What do you worry about most these days?

Honestly? This economy nonsense stresses me out to no end. I'm extremely thankful for the jobs Hubby and I both have but sometimes even that doesn't seem like enough for our quickly diminishing budget. I've been buying Shasta cola if that tells you anything! ;-)

5. Tell us the truth: exactly how many marijuana plants do you have growing on your property? Don’t lie-- we all know what REALLY goes on in Humboldt!

Ha! Ah yes, the Emerald Triangle. I would have to say that's a big ZERO. I won't get too much into my own beliefs but I will say for my family, this particular little green weed fits nowhere into our lifestyle. To each their own.

Now...I would love to interview you and you and you. So here is what you do:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. (I get to pick the questions).
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

So come on--let's get to know each other better. And do not fear potential questions--I promise to play very nice. Good times!

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

I rarely have company over and when I do, it's a guaranteed anxiety/panic attack. I clean the bathrooms, kitchen, carpets, closets and other places I'm sure my guests won't see - just in case. My voracious appetite to clean, clean and even more clean continues on as my first guests breech the threshold of my home.

Why is it I feel the need to make my house so sanitary that the hospital could probably easily place the Bubble Boy in my midst without nary a fear? Are my guests really going to care if my pantry is organized by color and if my sheets all have military corners? Who knows, but I do love me the smell of some Pine Sol. It was a love created when I was pregnant with Gunny. I would crave the smell of chemically created pines in my house - so much so that my floor was bathed with it on a weekly (if not more) basis.

I consider myself an decent housekeeper, as I really cannot stand clutter. If it's been sitting on my counter for more than a couple of days, it's either going in the trash or to a new home (something I learned from my mother - thanks Mom). I practice what I preach, unfortunately, the rest of the hoodlums around here don't. Hubby is the proverbial "piler" (little heaps of his crap all over the house - keys, pens, assorted work gadgets and shiny things he's collecting) and his children are taking after him. I get so torked when I'm picking things up and putting them away for the fifty millionth time but I know if I don't, no one will and eventually you'll see our house on an Oprah pack rat special. I'm just not ready for that.

As I sit here, four hours away from my little shindig, I'm contemplating re-vacuuming my floor. It's not really dirty but I don't care for the pattern I left on the last vacuuming session. I guess I really should talk to someone about these OCD issues or maybe just not have company over. EVER.

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Back in the days of Aqua Net, pegged pants, and L.A. Gear shoes, I was attending high school. I had great aspirations of being the first person in my family to go to college but in those days, money wasn't sprouting from trees and there wasn't much hope for me to attend unless I did so on my parent's credit cards.

Because of this, I pimped myself out to every scholarship application and committee that crossed my path. I wrote essays to dead people, I drank warm milk and socialized with Humboldt "elite" at a local yocal moo-moo contest (name withheld to protect the innocent), and I worked hard to keep my grade point average as high as I could. I did everything I could possibly think of to pay my way into a higher education.

During my junior year of high school, a quasi beauty and talent pageant was annually held which meant big bucks should I place well. Of course, being the money grubbing teenager, I promptly signed myself up without a second thought to the dance routine, talent portion, and fancy dress wearing required of the contestants. Did I mention that I hated cheerleaders? Or how I avoided dancing at any of the dances and normally wore Wranglers and barn boots to school in the morning? Yeah, smart move on my behalf.

Throughout the next few weeks, I slowly picked up the dance moves and began practicing walking in high heels. It wasn't too bad but I was still at a loss as to what I could do for a talent. Some of the gals did dance routines while others played musicial instruments. I had absolutely no talent having sworn off anything remotely close to ladylike ambitions.

The ladies putting on the show approached me, seeing the quandary I was already facing of having to pretend that I enjoyed being a girl for the entire show. One nice gal mentioned doing a poem and I chewed on it overnight. By morning, I had a solution. My favorite teacher used to play cowboy poetry during class and on field trips. It was one of the few types of poetry (besides Sidney Sheldon) I actually enjoyed listening to. The answer was perfect and none of the women seemed too concerned over my decision; that is until they heard me recite the poem in all it's glory on the night of the performance. I guess when I walked out in Wranglers, boots, leather chaps, a cowboy hat, and a painted on mustache - they knew they were in for it.

Here's what I recited:

Story With a Moral
By: Waddie Mitchell

For months after it, just the thought made me spit,
And I'd live it over like a bad dream.
And the moral, I think, is if you must take a drink,
Never, ever remount and ride upstream.

The crowd was silent during my recital and I gave my best cowboy twang voice, making sure to accentuate the parts about the guts and stench. It was great. I got a polite clapping session at the end but I could care less. I rocked good 'old Waddie and I did the talent portion without entirely giving up my tomboy roots.

Needless to say, I didn't win the talent contest or the whole shebang. But... I did walk out with first-runner up and Miss Congeniality (due to all my dirty jokes during practice). I was shocked and so were my parents - especially when they saw the $700 bucks I made for a night's worth of girliness. It was a great experience but one I'd never repeat - even though I did it my way *insert Frank Sinatra's voice here*.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I was rooting around on one of my memory sticks and found a scan I had made several years ago. The scan was of two pictures (side by side) of my Grandpa and I and a shot of Taters. Before I show it to you and let you decide if you think there is some family resemblance, I want to make some proper introductions.

My Grandpa Darrel was a cool dude. I was just a little over three years old when he passed away from cancer, but I do remember him vividly. Sitting on his lap while he mowed the orchard, sharing his cherry flavored cough drops (when I wasn't even sick which really torked my Grandma off), hanging out with him on the old rickety porch while he drank his coffee and I sipped my juice - great memories.

For you Humboldt locals, I remember he and my Grandma taking me to the old Eureka Mall to look at the "fishies" in the walkway. Do you know what I'm talking about? Before Winco and during the time of Sears and Newberry's, it was a really neat place to walk around in - especially with your favorite Grandpa.

I recall some of the sad times, when he was confined to a hospital bed in the livingroom, suffering from the evilness of cancer. We all offered him love and support as he passed on - almost as if we were giving him permission to go. I was there when he died and his viewing and funeral were the first dealings with grief and death I had ever had. Thankfully, his passing was explained to me as a positive thing rather than a tragedy; he was truly suffering and the idea he was finally at peace was a consoling factor - even for a little kid. Cancer is evil and chemotherapy (at least in those days) was just as bad.

It will be 30 years this March since he passed but the memories are still there. I'm truly fortunate that my kids have two awesome grandpas to make memories with and they've been working hard on doing just that.

Here's the picture. Can you guess who's who?

And here's my dad (Grandpa Darrel was his dad) and my little bro, Uncle R:

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I just washed my second Motorola Razr phone. The first one I bathed was only three days old. This one was a little better as I had had it for about six months. It's entirely my fault because I didn't practice what I preach about checking your pockets. In my own defense, I must have inhaled too much Downey as I was doing my millionth load of laundry when I emptied the wash machine and heard that all too familiar, "tink, tink, tink" as it fell out of the wet clothes. See? Housework can be dangerous.

The worst part? I just spent $50 on a battery, less than a week ago, because the old battery wouldn't hold a charge. Grrr...

I never realized how miserably dependent I had become on my cell phone. l was having serious heart palpitations at the thought of losing all my contacts and pictures. Thank goodness US Cellular is smarter than I am because they anticipated I'd wash this one too and helped me out with a contacts back-up. I was to track that down online last night and it at least helped me to sleep a bit better.

My sweet little phone is currently drying out, in several pieces, on the counter. I say nice things to it whenever I pass by and give it encouragement to start working again. I even rubbed it's little waterlogged screen in a weak attempt to show how much I cared. I dunno, but I have a feeling it's gone. It's really gone *sobbing, cough - cough, nose blowing*.

Several friends have recommended checking out e-Bay because no, I did not have insurance (I'm the responsible one, remember?) and I'm smack in the middle of my contract. This sucks.

***** UPDATE ***** My phone number just called me! Woohoo! Thank goodness US Cellular has cheap, 30-day returned phones. I'm back in business :-). Thank you Hubby. I love you.

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thank you, dear reader, for putting up with the 435 random and wacky entries in this crazy Momma's online journal. Today marks exactly one year when I begin this blog for the Times-Standard. It's been a fun time and a wild ride, and you've all been there to watch the fiasco I call normal life. Thanks for putting up with me and my family and most importantly, thank you for taking time out of your busy life to read my blog. Let's make it another year, pinky swear?

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

...With my new piano. I went in tonight and opened up it's cranium (the lid thingy - I'm so not technical with names) and looked at the inch of dust I still need to clean off it's numerous tiny innards. Even it's insides are cool - so many pieces and parts, hoses and knobs, I'm just in awe that someone in the early 1900's had the technology to come up with this creature. As soon as I get my books on piano restoration, we'll be ready to waltz (remember - there are no rock-n-roll piano rolls).

After snooping, I sat on the bench and pretended to channel Mozart or at least Sara Bareilles. Instead, I just ended up playing the first few notes of the theme song to Beverly Hills Cop (you'd know it if you heard it), but I really rocked it. Sticky keys and all.

Here are a couple of pics I took tonight. My boys seem to also share my love of this beast and I can see many hours of music in our future.

Gunny pounding the ivories:

C-dubs grimy fingers tickling the ivories:

This is the part I hope still works. It's were the piano rolls go and it appears to be the cleanest part of the whole piano:

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I had a late birthday present arrive this weekend, in the form of an old Crown Combinola player piano. My wonderful cousin had this beautiful beast sleeping in his storage unit for the past several years. Not wanting to pay the rental fees anymore, he asked me if I wanted to adopt it. I just couldn't say no to a free piano; it was a bargain music lover's dream! As you can probably guess, the little things like where I was going to keep it, how I was going to maintain it, etc., never really crossed by mind. It's amazing what a bargain high can cause you to do and say yes to.

I've always wanted a piano although I have no clue how to play one and can't carry a tune in a bucket. I seriously make small children and animals cry when I sing or attempt to play a musical instrument. I have given music the good old college try and even took a semester in college playing the viola. I was banished to the horse stall for practice sessions as my playing gave my mother migraines. I do have one musical instrument that I play very well - prodigal if you will. It's the song flute and I was the best in my third grade class. Here's a pic of my mentor:

I don't know what it is about pianos that I love. Maybe it's the shiny white keys or the sweet sound tinkling from it's belly when the right person pulls up to fondle the ivory. They're just cool. Add to the fact that this certain model has the "player" feature (no, that does not mean it picks up other "loose" pianos with ease), I can totally fake like I know what I'm doing, with just a few easy pumps of the pedals.

This old thing still plays but is in need of a lot of love and tenderness. I've ordered a few books off of Amazon that promise to show me how to become a piano refurbisher extraordinaire. Hubby isn't holding his breath that I'll actually make it work any better than it does now, but I'm going to prove him wrong. If I can't do it, I have a perfectly working phone that will allow me to call for help.

I've ordered a couple of piano rolls off of e-Bay so we're ready to rock - well, actually waltz since they really don't have any Britney Spears or Metallica piano rolls. My kids are going to be in for a pleasant shock when they hear what real music sounds like. I'm hoping to find some more rolls so if you know of anyone looking to unload some, give me a holleh.

I'll post photos as I progress or digress depending on how things go. Wish me luck.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

It's my berfday, as Gunny would say. I've hit the ripe old age of 33, can someone please put me out to pasture? Seriously, stick a fork in me because I'm done. I don't wanna age anymore so I think this will be my last one. I know I should have stopped at 30, or maybe even 26 (that way I could still rent a car if I needed to), but I guess 33 will have to do since I procrastinated.

I know I shouldn't complain too much because I have had more memorable birthdays. On birthday #13, we had my Grandmother's funeral (Mrs. Grumpy). I was getting birthday wishes with my mourning tears. There was also birthday #24, where I had a week old Taterbug to contend with. Sore boobs, a screaming infant, and incredible exhaustion made that day a keeper. And who can forget the incredible birthday #30, where I was hugely pregnant with Gunny and spent my evening having a non-stress test at the hospital with contractions that eventually stopped. So yeah, I really shouldn't complain too much because today's #33 is going to be a good day, and hopefully, a good number for an age.

In case you were wondering what sort of fascinating things have happened on my birthday, here's a link. Check yours' out as well.

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I took this picture today after trying to soak up the 60 degree sun Mother Nature decided to share with us. Do you know where it is? I'll give you some hints to this beautiful spot:

* For several months of the year, you really can't access it.
* You can sometimes see Union soliders hiding behind the logs.
* If you walk far enough, you might find the purrfect present.

So I probably just made this way too easy, but we'll see.

P.S. Like the logo?

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Here's a variety of different poems I found for the original, "Twas The Night Before Christmas" poem (I don't think that's actually the original title, come to think of it). I'm feeling so rundown for the holidays and these perked me up a bit. Make sure you watch the video at the end. It's just wrong but ever so right.

The original version by Clement Clarke Moore:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

For the Mom:

It was the night before Christmas, when all thru the abode
Only one creature was stirring, and she was cleaning the commode.
The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,
While visions of Nintendo 64 and Barbie, flipped through their heads.
The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
With a half-constructed bicycle on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh, "Now what's the matter?"

With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes and soot, which fell with a shrug.
"Oh great," muttered the mom, "Now I have to clean the rug."

"Ho-ho-ho!" cried Santa, "I'm glad you're awake."
"Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks, Santa, but all I want is some time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "I've made you a clone."

"A clone?" she asked, "What good is that?
Run along, Santa, I've no time for chit-chat."
The mother's twin. Same hair, same eyes,
Same double chin.

"She'll cook, she'll dust," She'll mop every mess.
You'll relax, take it easy, Watch The Young & the Restless." "Fantastic!" the mom cheered. "My dream come true!
"I'll shop. I'll read., I'll sleep a whole night through! "

From the room above, the youngest began to fret.
"Mommy?! I scared... and I am wet."
The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the mom smiled, "She knows her part."

The clone changed the small one, and hummed a tune,
as she bundled the child, in a blanket cocoon.
"You the best mommy ever. " I really love you."
The clone smiled and sighed, "I love you, too."

The mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal. "
That's my child's love, she's trying to steal."
Smiling wisely Santa said, "To me it is clear, "
Only one loving mother, is needed here."

The mom kissed her child, and tucked her into bed.
"Thank you, Santa, for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, it won't be very long,
When they'll be too old, for my cradle-song."

The clock on the mantle began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side Santa said, "Goodnight. Merry Christmas, Mom, You'll be all right."

For the Redneck (and Jen!)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the trailer
Not a creature was stirrin' 'cept a redneck named Taylor.
His first name was Bubba, Joe was his middle,
And a-runnin' down his chin was a trickle of spittle.
His socks, they were hung by the chimney with care,
And therefore there was a foul stench in the air.

That Bubba got scared and rousted the boys.
There was Rufus, 12 Jim Bob was 11
Dud goin' on 10 Otis was 7.
John, George and Chucky Were 5,4, and 3:
The twins were both girls so they let them be.

They jumped in their overalls, no need for a shirt,
Threw a hat on each head, then turned with a jerk.
They ran to the gun rack that hung on the wall.
There were 17 shotguns they grabbed them all.

Bubba said to the young'uns, "now hesh up ya'll!
The last thing we wanna do is wake up yer Maw."
Maw was expecting and needed her sleep,
So out they crept out the door without making a peep.

They all looked around, and then they all spit.
The young'uns asked Bubba, "Paw, what is it?"
Bubba just stared he could not say a word.
This was just like all of The stories he'd heard.

It was Santy Claus on the roof, darn tootin'
But the boys didn't know they was about to start shootin'!
They aimed their shotguns and nearly made a mistake
That would have resulted in venison steak.
Bubba hollered out, "don't shoot, boys!"
That's Santy Claus And he's brought us some toys.

The dogs were a-barkin' and a-raisin' cain,
And Bubba whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Down, Spot! shut up Bullet! quiet, Roscoe and Enos!
Git, Turnip and Tater and Sam and Bosco!"

"Git down from that porch! git down off that wall!
Quit shakin the trailer, or you'll make Santy fall!"
The dogs kept a-barkin' and wouldn't shut up,
And they trampled poor Pete Who was only a pup.

Santy opened his bag, And threw out some toys.
Bubba got most, but left a few for the boys.
Since the guns had been dropped he just might not die.

He jumped in his sleigh, told his reindeer to hurry.
The trailer started to wobble santa started to worry.
Just as the reindeer got into the air,
The trailer collapsed, but Bubba didn't care.

He was busy lookin' at all his new toys.
Then a thought hit him, and he said to the boys:
"Go check on yer Maw, make sure she's all right.
That roof fallin' on her could-a hurt just a might."

But Maw was OK, and the girls were too.
They fixed up the trailer it looked good as new.
And as for Bubba, he liked Old St. Nick,
But Santa thought Bubba was a pure-in-tee hick!

Bubba had a nice Christmas, and the boys did, too.
And the Taylors wish a Yee Haw Merry Christmas to you!!!

For the Dieter:

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I’d wind up sick.

The sweet-coated santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
Now dash away pounds now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly,
They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn
Gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry–
If temptation’s removed I’ll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night
In the morning I’ll starve… ’til I take that first bite!

And a video:

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

You know UPS comes to your house too much when...

Your daughter refers to them as your brown truck boyfriends and your two year old calls them the "present guys." Another way to tell? When your children yell to you on the front porch to say "hi" to their new Daddy whenever a different face delivers a Christmas package. Taterbug swears that it's terrible of me to cheat so much on my other boyfriends - Schwans and Fed Ex - and even my girlfriend - the mail lady. I guess I truly know the reason behind the phrase, "Ho! Ho! Ho!" at least in reference to my galvanting around.

And here's a tribute to my scandalous ways:

Ho ho ho, get out of the street, it's chilly outside...

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Martha Freakin' Stewart entered my body today and possessed not only my heart and soul, but every stinkin' clean and freshly licked bowl in my house. Martha decided to get with the big "S" (Santa) and challenged me to a dessert feast that would make a chubby man, such as Santa Clause, blush. I'm sure the Safeway gal thought I was buying enough sugar, flour, milk, and cream to start my own bakery or at least prepare for the next nuclear war - but no, I was just stockpiling the necessary goodies to embark upon my wild trip into candy and cookie making ecstasy.

Let's just say I'm known. Yeah, that's right, I've gotta rep and I proudly live up to it every year. You heard it, I'm known as the divalicious goddess of the kitchen. People love being around me during the holidays. They have lustful, fanciful thoughts about what I can do for them with a little chocolate and caramel. Hmmm....yeah, my goodies are that tasty. Whether it be Sandi's Secret Caramel, Christmas Crack, homemade gooey Marshmallows, chewy Rice Crispie Treats or melt in your mouth World's Best Chocolate Chip Cookies - you are sure to be satisfied when we part company during the holidays.

Who knows what I was thinking today when I decided to tackle five different recipes with a helpful two year old and anxious six year old hot on my June Cleaver heels, but I didn't care. Maybe it was rum extract or perhaps it was the pure Madagascar vanilla I chugged periodically out of a silver plated pocket cask; I threw caution to the wind and flour on my face as I embarked upon a whirlwind of baking and boiling. I enlisted C-dub as my official "dumper" (he who dumps the ingredients in the bowl) and Gun-Gun was the Queen's taster (preventing the poisoning of our royal crew). When I dared to tread on C-dub's carefully manicured toes by dumping in some dry ingredients during one of his many bathroom trips, his reply to me was:

"Don't pour that stuff in without me. Cuz, I, uh, just wouldn't like you berry much if you did. 'K, Mom?" 'Nuff said. I did not even contemplate trying to sneak that one past him again. God forbid he didn't like me anymore.

When all was said and done, and the flour and butter had settled, only magnificence remained:

The happiest person of the day? The Queen's Taster, of course. And guess what? The little monster is still awake, and still rarin' to go at 11PM. No more cookies, Gunnah. Be sure to read his shirt - it's entirely fitting for today.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I've recently had the pleasure of photographing several different families. I'd like to think they allowed me to do their photos because of my awesome talent, experience and dazzling smile, but in all seriousness, I know it's because I don't charge. That's right; nada, zilch, nunca. My self-confidence, or lack thereof, has prevented me from even considering it.

I've spent the past year working hard on my photography and learning the basics by reading books and taking a photography class. I've networked with some really good photographers and I've discovered what I'm good at and not so good at. I really want to be a strong photographer not just a MWAC (Mom With A Camera), which is a term coined by professionals for people like me :-).

After much discussion and the purchase of a new editing program and new lens, I've decided that 2009 will be bringing about some changes. I'm gonna, *gulp*, start charging. No, it won't be much and I'm still taking it in the end as far as the time I'll spend shooting, editing and doing final preparations, but at least it will slowly help to pay for the initial investment I've made.

I have to remember that this is my hobby and will never be my business. I like the steady paycheck, health bennies, and retirement that a normal job provides and I know that I'll never make enough on photography to pay for my mortgage or clean diapers. As long as I can support my habit, I'll be happy.

Anyhoo, not really sure what the point of this posting is other than to solidify to myself that I'm going to do this and that I can do this *insert the Little Engine That Could* and that I need to stop being a chicken schat when it comes to constructive criticism and confidence levels. I feel so much better now - maybe that's the Immodium talking.

Here are some shots from some recent photo shoots I did...

A handsome little Christmas miracle:

A beautiful little princess to make your ovaries ache:

A fun couple and a secret Superman:

Thanks for looking!

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)

My fellow camera geek friends and I have an informal club where we set a theme, take photos, and then meet once a month or so over dinner. It's a fun time to be had and we normally learn a lot from each other. This month's theme was "Boudoir" and I was none to happy about it. For one thing, I didn't have a willing model. Hubby refused to do any sort of portrait involving lace, feathers, and come hither looks. And, I really don't enjoy being in front of the camera so the idea of any of my lovely lady lumps being part of a photoshoot was never going to happen.

What's a girl to do? I really wanted to give a shot that represented my style but still had some of the theme which I hated. While I stewed on the issue, I noticed Tater's Barbies lying in a heap in the playroom. Seeing how they were all nekkid, the idea of "Barbie Boudoir" practically smacked me in the head.

So I did it. I sequestered myself to the dining nook where I placed a few nekkid Barbies on some fuzzy material and then some red satin. With bright natural light shining in, I created a beautiful moment in time for Ken and Barbie. They both seemed so happy about it.

Here's one that's work and child safe:

Here's the link to the one that's not:

Barbie Boudoir

I should mention that neither Barbie nor Ken were harmed in the making of this photoshoot. Also, I was sure to keep Skipper and Kelly away from the shoot so as not to impress any suspicious nekkidness activity on their impressionable brains.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

My friend, Becky, sent me this joke the other day. It brought about an instant chuckle that almost made me spit out my coffee, so I thought I'd pass it on. Please take heed of the title because the joke is about S-E-X (spelled that way in order to avoid the porn bots). If you are against sex, never had sex, are under the age of understanding what sex is, or just a prude, don't go any further so as to not offend your virgin ears.

$7 Sex

A Florida couple, both well into their 80s, go to a sex therapist's office. The doctor asks, "What can I do for you?"

The man says, "Will you watch us have sexual intercourse?"

The man says, "We're not trying to find out anything. She's married so we can't go to her house. I'm married and we can't go to my house. The Holiday Inn charges $98. The Hilton charges $139. We do it here for $50, and I get $43 back from Medicare."

You gotta love a bargain shopper :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

It's official. Christmas has entered my house and vomited red tinsel all over my carpet. I barely had one sleepy eyeball open yesterday morning when three little faces (two with whiskers) were eagerly awaiting by my bedside. The one who was able to whine and verbalize his pleas to "start Christmas" spoke up first.

"Can we pweaze get da Cwistmas stuff outta da gawage today? Pwetty pwease?" C-dub then proceeded to try and use the puppy dog face which doesn't phase me a bit. I'm invincible to the quivering lip and moistened eyeballs.

I replied to him that Thanksgiving hadn't even happened yet but I'd be willing to get a few boxes down, later. Which in adult language, meant that I was going to push it off until evening and hope that either Hubby would get home first and could do it or C-dub would eventually fall asleep (waiting ever so impatiently) saving me from the whole process.

Well, Hubby ended up working late and C-dub has memory like an elephant. Every hour, on the hour, he'd remind me of my promise. When I told him to give me a little more time he'd set it an hour and promptly check back in fifty nine minutes later.

Is it time yet? Maaaaooommmm.

You say you had to pee. You bettah get in der and do yer stuff before you wet yurself. And then get the Cwistmas stuff down, K?

Arghhh!!! The kid never gave up and I finally got off my arse and waddled out into the garage. I don't particularly like getting things out of our rafters for a couple of reasons that either have four legs or eight legs (mice and spidahs).

After ensuring that both C-dub and Taters knew the number to 9-1-1 and had phone in hand, should I take a tumble from the eight foot ladder, I slowly climbed up the ladder, flashlight in hand. I store most of my stuff in plastic containers but last year, I was a tad bit lazy and hit the 75% off Target sale after I had already stored my Christmas bounty. This mean that for the most part, all my sale stuff was still in the original shopping bags. Rut roh, not the best thing to do in a country garage.

As I scanned for any arachnids that could potentially eat my arm or at least bite a finger, I pulled the totes out one by one. When I got to my bags, I noticed a strange pile of shredded paper and plastic mixed with beautiful red, blue, and green fibers - hmmm....the exact colors of the new tree skirt I had bought last year.

Then I saw something I like to call evidence...turds. Tiny little mouse turds scattered the floor of the rafters where my beautiful tree skirt had slept for a year, waiting for me to break it from it's deep seasonal slumber. The little mouse biotches had other ideas and decided to raise their nasty little family in it. Thankfully, they only damaged a little of the skirt and I was able to salvage it by putting the shredded end toward the wall. Did I mention that I really like this tree skirt? And it was on sale - a total bargain - I couldn't just dump it.

After looking at all the Christmas junk and reminiscing over night, I made the executive decision that today was the perfect day to find a tree. Rather than suffering from hyperthermia and episodes of "bushing it," I like to go to Ace Hardware because they have 5-6' Noble Fir trees for $29.99, a perfect size and price for our house. We met Grandpa D (since I'm truckless) at the store and picked out the perfect tree for our family. After a quick jaunt home and some decorating, I'm now staring at a gorgeous tree....being molested by two kittehs.

The best part of a beautifully decorated fragile tree is two wild mountain lion cousins. It was pretty while it lasted.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I was tagged by Beth at C. Beth Blog, to list seven different things about me you might not know, or probably wouldn't even want to know. So here ya go. You've been warned...

1. I used to be in love with Gene Simmons of KISS. Yes, the man is old enough to be my grandfather but between the make-up, boots, and crazy tongue, I could have looked past the old man smell. My one sided love affair ended earlier this year when someone sent me a porn clip involving him and a very young nasty gal. It was gross and I think I even threw up a little bit, *gulp*. Affair over.

2. I still have a thing for guys with long hair - you know, like the 80's metal head - not mullet head. No Joe Dirt for me. I secretly look forward to the Got Milk? commercial with the geeky guy who turned into the heartthrob rocker, White Gold. Yeah, I think he's hawt in a weird sorta way and I certainly dig his sexy voice. "It's supernaturallllll!" Here's a clip in case you're a visual learner:

3. I hated being pregnant but I looked forward to being in labor. I have a pretty high pain tolerance and I always push myself to the limits during the birth process. Without going into the gory details, I was able to successfully deliver a nine and a half pound Gunny without the help of pain meds. I take great pride in knowing that this was probably one of my most successful life moments and if I could, I'd go back to school in a second and become a midwife or a doula. And if you need a doula, hire Tracey 'cuz she rocks!

4. I was a wrangler wearing, cowboy boot lovin', tom boy chillin', prom queen. And I rocked that crown much to the dismay of some of the senior populoids.

5. I am deathly afraid of snakes, heights, and small places. My hands sweat and I get really dizzy whenever I'm near any of these. I think my fear of snakes is the greatest in that I even have to lift my feet up if I have to drive over a snake in the roadway. Ewww, *shudders*, me no likey.

6. I hate going to the mall but I love Internet shopping. I get a freakish' high when I find a bargain. It's insane. Hubby is very tolerant of my bargain buying ability and I've even caught him bragging to his friends about some of my finds.

7. My kids are my life. I never even wanted to be a mom and I originally warned Hubby that he'd end die a childless man with half a dozen cats. But as soon as we bought our first house and got a puppy, my estrogen started flowing and out popped Taters. If finances and patience would allow, I'd have three more kids in a heartbeat. I'm really glad Hubby doesn't read my blog because he'd probably stop sleeping with me ;-).

Since I love to return the favor of public humiliation, I'm tagging the following seven bloggers and inviting them to complete this viscious cycle of storytelling:

Monica's Radio, Radio, Radio Blog
A Beachcomber's Blog
Mixed Blessings
Just A Small Town Girl
The Redneck Romance Writer
Greedy Grace
Waiting 4 News

Posted by Mommazilla at 06:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Yes, the holiday season has vomited on my blog. Please bear with me while we skip directly over Turkey Day to Christmas, my second favorite holiday of the year.

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

When my kids got home from their first round of trick-or-treating, I think I was more excited then they were. My older two monsters had visited an old folks home and then the downtown merchants for some daytime trick-or-treating. Thankfully, the candy donations were plentiful and everyone did an excellent job of supplying the kiddos with top notch candies. There were hardly any of those nasty cheap hard Costco candies; we got the real deal. Hershey bars, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Snickers...you name it and it was in their bucket.

As I emptied their pails out, I kept out a couple of the chocolate bars and a few peanut butter cups for myself. Oh, and the Almond Joy and Mounds bars because the kids hate coconut. I think. I then snuck into my room and began eating them as I had told the kids they could eat no more candy.

As I tore into my fourth candy bar, Taterbug walked in and caught me in the act. Between the empty wrappers and chocolaty fingers, I knew I couldn't deny the obvious.

"What are you doing?! I can't believe you Muhtherrr!!" She demanded an answer as she placed her hands on her hips and shook her finger at me.

"I'm checking your candy for needles. The good news is that so far, I haven't found any." And with that, I plopped the rest of the Hershey bar into my mouth and got up and left the room with my empty wrappers.

Taterbug stood there in shock of the prospect of needles in her candy bars and Hubby entered the room just as I was leaving.

"You know you're shameless, right?" He asked me rather incredulously.

"I know. I have some left if your interested." I presented him with the same temptation I had already given into.

"Do you have any more chocolate? I guess I need to test some, too."

I knew I loved this guy.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Check here. I found a few family members who are now $40 richer. Not too shabby.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm an amateur cake decorator. What this means is that I have a Craftsman cart loaded with tips, bags, and other tools I have no clue how to use. And the worst part? Most of them are still in their original packaging. Several years ago I did take a class with my mom and a friend at Michael's but those lessons have long since passed and I'm back at square one, just eating cake.

If you enjoy cake decorating or even just like eating cake, check out this site. I especially loved the baby bursting prego lady cake. Quite a classic design via the movie "Alien."

After seeing this site, you will have a new appreciation of what ends up on your celebration table.

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

My Dearest Gump,

I can always count on you to leave me a comment - whether it be witty, wise, or just unnerving, you're always there like a bad cankersore. In honor of your upcoming birthday, I got you a cake, complete with a stripper. Yeah, I went all out on ya, 'cuz that's how much I care. Here's a picture to entice you since your birthday isn't technically until tomorrow. Don't worry, I told "Shim" how to find you:

Since you're such a hard guy to buy a present for, I really had to rack my brain and came up with a few ideas, well, actually images. I can't spare the change to actually buy you a present since the three dozen pair of lacy knickers for the NKOTB concert really put me in the hole. But it's the thought that counts, right?

Here's idea #1:

This print comes complete with a special saying and autograph from Homer. I thought you'd appreciate the sentiment.

And onto idea #2:

A gift card to Wal Mart for a new outfit.

Tremendous creativity was brought out on idea #3:

But, I know you're good with the 'puter, so I found this one and thought you'd might enjoy it.

And finally, my idea for your last present (and most feasible since I have the pieces and parts in my own backyard):

Just make sure to bleach the grill real good. And keep it either/or if you know what I mean. This shouldn't be used as a multi-tasking piece of equipment.

Happy Birthday Gump. You don't look a hair over 30 :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 06:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Garbage Pail Kids, so very gross. I remember saving my money and my mom taking Uncle R and I down to the store so we could buy a couple of packs each week. For about fifty cents, you got several cards and a stick of super hard gum - and we freakin' loved them. Uncle R decorated his whole dresser set with the stickers and it cracks me up to see that old thing (still covered with stickers) now living in my dad's shop.

Another great product courtesy of the 80's.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

When my Grandma was alive, every year Dad would take care of her fruit orchard, pruning the trees and giving her huge yard a summer makeover. In the process, he'd create a large pile of drying brush that we'd later turn into a huge bonfire on a Sunday morning. As my brother and I got older, we were allowed to be the bonfire "babysitters." This involved us getting short little willow twigs that we'd light and pretend to smoke when Mom and Dad weren't looking. Many a slug and snail were also cooked on these little twigs, much to the dismay our parents who weren't particuarly fond of crispy critters lying around the outskirts of the pile.

When the Sunday morning arrived and it was time to burn up our pile, my brother and I were ready. Unfortunately, the pile wasn't completely dry and Dad was having some trouble getting it started.

I remember Grandma mentioning that she had been cleaning out the attic and had some items we could use to get the fire going. Dad followed Grandma into the house and came back out carrying a large cardboard box. He growled at my brother and I to leave so that he could get the fire going. We protested, reminding him that we were professional fire starters and slug chefs. Our griping just bought us time in the old Chevy while he, my mom, and Grandma worked hard to get the fire lit.

We could see Dad slowly picking up what appeared to be magazines out of the cardboard box. He'd look briefly at each magazine and then toss it into the growing fire. I could have sworn that I sensed hesitation as he threw each magazine in, but I had no clue why he looked sort of sad as the flames ravaged the magazines.

A short time later, after the cardboard box was empty and the fire was raging, we were released from the captivity of the old Chevy and allowed to take our place back by the fire. My brother, who enjoyed the fire much more than I did, began poking the embers with his willow twig. As he did, large pieces of ash began to fly up exposing us to what had been printed on the magazines Dad had thrown in; vintage Playboy.

We saw boobies, butts, and various other body parts, drifting about in the air. My horndog brother would try and blow out the larger pieces of ash so that he could get a better glimpse of the forbidden fruit. Dad eventually took notice of my brother's excitement over the "fire" and had some quick words about leaving the fire alone to do its business. I think Mom just glared through the process and Grandma grinned, happy that she wasn't having to do any explaining.

On a side note, we did get the entire brushpile burned down that day. My poor Dad on the other hand, probably lost a fortune (and I'm sure several fond memories) in those vintage Playboys.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm so excited...only nine more days and I'll be in the glitz and quasi-glamor of Las Vegas, watching my favorite childhood band shake their moneymakers; NKOTB. For those of you out of the know, that's New Kids on the Block: Adorable Joey, sexy Donnie, suave Jordan, rugged Danny, and the romantic Jonathan. I'm about ready to swoon just thinking about the newly divorced Donnie. He's always been my favorite and I'm planning on fighting Aunt Dina for his affections. * Sigh *

While I'm super stoked (I'm practicing my late 80's early 90's jargon) about the concert, I think I'm the most excited because this is the first girlfriend weekend I've had in over eight years. Hubby and I have escaped a handful of times but for the most part, wherever we go, the kids go and wherever I go, Hubby goes. Yeah, it can be such a pain in the butt to travel with kids but it's entirely worth it when we all end up having a good time.

I do have the mommy guilt settling in knowing that I'm going to be having a lot of fun while the little heathens are stuck at the house with Hubby. I'm telling myself over and over again that I deserve a break once in a while, but I still feel a teency weency guilty. Not enough to make me even considering staying home but it's there, simmering a bit. I think once the first adult beverage settles in, this guilt will be a thing of the past or at least tolerable.

An added bonus to this trip was that I just got to go shopping for some clothes other than mom jeans and muffin tops. It was strange buying lady like clothes that I didn't anticipate would be potentially puked or pooped on. Hubby liked the clothes and Taters asked to borrow them. Great, it's starting already.

Hubby asked me if I bought some sexy lacy panties to throw at NKOTB but I quickly came to the realization that I'm getting old when I replied, "Are you kidding me? Do you know how much I pay for good panties?" Plus, I'd hate to throw something that someone might mistake for a skinned out cheetah. It sucks gettin' old and a little fatter than my fourteen year old former self.

My girlfriends and I are still looking for something to do on Friday night in Vegas. Do you know of any good shows? Recommendations for the best slots? I'm all ears if you can throw me some suggestions.

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

It clearly claimed this woman.

Even caused her to chase her neighborhood kids around and pee on her neighbor's front porch. And yes, she was wearing the costume the entire time. Udderly classic.

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

This story restores my faith in Karma.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I had never heard of such a thing until my dad showed me that yes, you can buy pancakes in a can. And guess what? They actually taste really good. I was pleasantly surprised the first time I made them because the pancakes were quite fluffy and most importantly, passed the kid's taste test.

It advertises that you get about 2 1/2 cups of batter in each can and I was able to get quite a few silver dollar sized pancakes before my can went empty. Costco is currently selling a three pack of these for just under $10. No, not the cheapest (at about $3.50 a can) but the neat packaging and ease of use make up for the cost. Enjoy!

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

On a much lighter note...This is wrong. So very wrong. But gosh darn funny. It's certainly not kid safe, and depending on where you work, you might want to wait and watch this little gem at home. You've been warned!

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Wow, I can't believe I've actually hit 300 postings and people are still reading this stuff. At least I hope people are still reading. Well, I know my aunt and mom are, so that's at least two. Three, if you count Gump and four, if you add in my BFF. I'm ok with four. Really. It's fine.

Not only is today the momentous occasion of my 300th post, but it's also the official last day of summer. This makes me kind of sad but at the same time very happy because I love me some holidays. I think I get more excited than my kiddos during this time of year.

I love Thanksgiving and Christmas but I'd have to say that Halloween time is what really floats my boat. I get a kick out of creepy decorations and I especially enjoy pimping out my children to my great neighbors who give out full size candy bars. God bless those people. And now that my kids are older, I may subject them to theme or even better yet, matching costumes. I just haven't decided and I know they'll be squawking in complaints if I dress them like nerds. I've casually suggested they dress as members of KISS or even the Elvis Presley family, but all I've gotten are complaints in return. So much for creativity.

While I hate to see you go summer, here's your sign:

And a special welcome to the fall:

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

When I signed up to take a film class at CR, I wasn't quite sure was to expect. I knew I'd learn new things and that my love of photography would more than likely push me to try different techniques. I understood that I would not be using Photoshop - at all - and this stressed me just a tad bit...well, it actually freaked me out and I was jonesing for a fix after the first class. The biggest thing that suprised me was how much I enjoy shooting with an actual "old fashioned" film camera.

I love it.

The art of taking the picture, developing your negatives and then printing off 8X10 prints is addicting. I'm like a crack addict in the darkroom...Just one more print and I'll be done. Promise. Ok, maybe just one more because I really like that one. But that one's really nice too. Oh jeez...

The teacher practically has to kick the Dynamic Dendus and myself out of the darkroom at the end of class. We're always the last ones in there (albeit probably because we still aren't the best students) but we're the most excited students in the class with our finished products. I can't explain it other than to say it's just really rewarding to go through the entire process and then to see a successful print that inspires you to do more.

I highly, highly, highly recommend this class. You will enjoy it and have Christmas presents for many years to come.

Here's some of my latest (the pic's are actually scans of my prints):

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I love me some Davy Jones, but this version scares me.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

An a"moo"sing explanation of politics. This has been floating around the Internet for awhile so I'm not sure who originally created it.

DEMOCRATIC
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
Barbara Streisand sings for you.

REPUBLICAN
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
So?

SOCIALIST
You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.

COMMUNIST
You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
You wait in line for hours to get it.
It is expensive and sour.

CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.

BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.

AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
Your stock goes up.

FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch and drink wine.
Life is good.

JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.

GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.

ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows but you don't know where they are.
While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.
You break for lunch.
Life is good.

RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have some vodka.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.

TALIBAN CORPORATION
You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.
You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature' s private parts.
You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.

IRAQI CORPORATION
You have two cows.
They go into hiding.
They send radio tapes of their mooing.

POLISH CORPORATION
You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.

BELGIAN CORPORATION
You have one cow.
The cow is schizophrenic.
Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish.
The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk.
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.
The cow dies happy.

FLORIDA CORPORATION
You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.
Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best-looking cow.

CALIFORNIA CORPORATION
You have millions of cows.
They make real California cheese.
Only five speak English.
Most are illegals.
Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

I had a date yesterday with two young men. They even brought along another gal that joined in. Hubby wanted to watch so I went ahead and let him. There was all sorts of positioning involved and even the occasional crying session. I know I'm shameless, but damn, those pictures turned out good.

Now that I have your attention, I'd like to introduce you to my little cousins, Trevin and Tyce, and their lovely mother, Shannon. They are seriously two of the cutest little boys I've ever met and their momma is a hottie in her own right. After a good bribing of barbequed hamburgers and all you can eat ice cream, we got some great shots. But with a gorgeous family like this, how could you not?

Thanks again to Shannon and sons for allowing me to play!

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

but we're coming up on my favorite time of year. I hope you like the new blog header and I plan on changing it for each upcoming holiday.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I've been meaning to write this post for the past week. You'd think that I'd be in a hurry to create a post containing awesome news but in all seriousness, I think I'm still in shock and that's given me a mental block on how to word things.

For those of you who have been reading this blog for awhile, you know that my dad was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer in late May. Several lung biopsies later, the doctors were not able to find cancer cells in the large tumors that were growing in his lungs. Some of the doctors said that he was cancer-free and others said that the sample just didn't get to the heart of the tumor(s) and therefore the doctor wasn't able to pull out any cancer cells. The doctors couldn't even agree on whether or not the growths were tumors or necrotic tissue. It was a confusing heap of goo.

Throughout all of this, my dad slowly started to gain weight and stamina. His coloring returned back to a rosy shade of pink and that familiar Buddha belly returned (much to his dismay!). His doctor even remarked he looked far too healthy to be as sick as they thought he was.

I know this sounds terrible, but Uncle R, Hubby and I subconsciously created our own "bucket list" for Dad and started making sure he was living life up the right way. It was fun but always had an underlying tone of sadness because every fun event was a reminder of our family's potential future.

About a month ago, Dad's doctor referred him to a surgeon in order to have one last lung biopsy done. In this procedure, Dad would have to be put completely out and the surgeon would go in under his sternum, then into his lung, in order to take larger segments of the tumors. The procedure would come with some great risks including the risk of possibly deflating the lung. The most scary part was he would have to stay in ICU while he was in the hospital. I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of such a potentially deadly test.

I've never been one to keep my mouth shut and I told my dad I didn't like the idea. He was already told they couldn't find cancer in the other samples so why should he risk his health just to be told again he was cancer free and make his own doctor feel satisfied with the results? Dad agreed and explained his fears to the surgeon. They decided to have Dad undergo a final CT scan. If the scan showed tumor growth or abnormalities, then he'd continue on with the more invasive test. It would be worth the risk.

Two weeks ago, Dad underwent the CT. A week ago, we learned the tumors were gone. His lungs were refreshingly vacant of any growths or strange cellular activity. What was once there, threatening to take Grandpa D from the three loves of his life, was now in oblivion and just a past horrific memory.

The surgeon didn't know what to say to my dad. He's never seen anything like it and the surprised look on his face told my dad enough. We still aren't sure what he had - maybe pneumonia or just some random infection that mimicked the activity of an aggressive cancer. Whatever the case, I have my dad back and he's doing great. His bucket list has been trashed and we're looking forward to many more years of fun memories and good times.

As a final lesson learned, you must be your own advocate in the healthcare system. No matter where you're located, you'll just be a patient number in the sea of medical care. Know your rights and most importantly, understand your illness and the tests associated. It's your body and your choice. Don't give that power away.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Do you have an Uncle Buck in your life? You know, that person who has offered support and mentoring throughout your life? Someone who's been there through thick and thin, giving you advice and a good ass chewing if so needed? If you do, consider yourself lucky. I have my own Uncle Buck and although I don't see or speak to him as much as I should, I know he's there for me if I need him. My Uncle Buck has taught me a great deal about myself and personal expectations; I attribute a lot of my success to his careful guidance.

I found my Uncle Buck about 22 years ago. He saw me through the days of mullets, spandex, bad boyfriends, and college applications. He started me on my career path and then maintained a thumb on the pressure point of my professional existance. He didn't sugarcoat his views nor did he hide the ugly truths of the profession I chose to pursue. He was just there; a solid rock in the ocean of uncertainty that I once faced as a young adult. Ok, I'm getting way too flowery with my word pictures, but I think you get what I mean and how important he was to me growing up.

If you haven't discovered your own Uncle Buck, try to find one. It's nice to have someone who's there to be a sounding board as well as a cheerleader minus the pom poms and annoying chants. Or better yet, become an Uncle Buck or Aunt Buckette to someone else. Find someone to help and become their biggest advocate. It will make them and you a better person because of it.

KING HENRY V

What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My kids and I spent the morning at the Sequoia Park Zoo with a friend and her gorgeous granddaughter:

It was such a treat because the beautifuls dahlias in the flower garden (just adjacent to the zoo) were blooming and us camera geeks got a cheap thrill:

(not sure if these are dahlias)

This was also the first time we had got to see the new memorial they had created for Bill the chimpanzee. My kiddos were watching the bear but you can see the memorial behind them. It's really nice and cheerful:

We polished off the day by visiting the park and enjoying what it had to offer:

The Sequoia Park Zoo was not yet charging a fee to enter but I believe this changes on the 29th. They are also renovating their aviary and it looks like it will be well worth the price of admission. But then again, I'd probably pay the price just to see the goat with an underbite:

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I've slowly been doing photoshoots for friends with the idea that maybe one day, I'll be good enough to actually charge for my hobby. I know I'm not nearly there yet and to be honest, it makes me feel so good to give moms pictures of their kiddos they actually enjoy - without the super high price that a photographer normally charges. I know I'm singing this tune now and in all actuality, it would be great to make money on photography, but for the time being I'm content with smiles and appreciatation.

I remember paying nearly $300 for an excellent photographer to take pics of my kids and on the flip side, less than $50 to have canned shots done by Sears. Obviously the main difference between the two is quality; quality in the actual photo and quality in the photographer willing and able to work with your child - which isn't always a possibility when you're in a rushed store setting. I'm just thankful not to have to fork out that sort of money anymore since I'm satisifed with the shots I normally get of my kiddos.

Here's a couple from the shoot I did yesterday:

Gotta love the out takes:

And the baby cheeks:

And the cute older siblings:

A big thanks to Jessica for allowing me to use her children as guinea pigs :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

But do you look this cute when you do it? Here's something for my Alaskan and former Alaskan family members.

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

In my eye. During our wonderful camping trip, some strange little allergen or otherwise unfriendly piece of eye matter, jabbed my left eye's cornea and it freakin' hurts! I'm on an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory, but it still feels like crud.

Poke me in the spleen or kick me in the kidney, just don't mess with my eyeballs. I hate getting my eyeballs touched for any reason so this corneal scratch has been pure hell not only to my body but my overall "ick factor." I guess I should be happy that it's not pink eye because having gone through that with the kids, I can honestly say that illness sucks.

Alright, thanks for letting me whine. I'm off to dose my peepers.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

And I can't stinkin' wait. My goal is to have all my shopping done by late November; finishing up the shopping season with a good 'ole dose of Black Friday battling. Anyone else gettin' ready?

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Starting this August, I'm gonna get me some college edumacation. That's right, you heard me, I'm gonna be a college student. Keggers, beer slides, and toga parties will be part of my dictionary again, just like it was 10 (or so) years ago. Um, yeah, not so much. In all reality, I've decided to further pursue my love of photography and photo editing by taking two classes on the subject. I'm really excited but at the same time, not "lurving" the idea of homework. But heck, at least it will be homework that I'll probably enjoy, right? Let's hope so. I wonder if I'll be a better student now that I'm paying for my own books?

A special thanks to Monica for the recommendation on the classes.

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

...through DNA. The story is here. It's so sad it's taken this long to clear the poor family and the mom didn't even get a chance to see it happen (she passed away from cancer in 2006 - 10 years after JonBenet was murdered). I admit, with all that was released publicly, I also believed the parents had something to do with the murder, although I never really saw a reason as to why someone would want to do that. Everyone pointed a finger at the parents and even son (who was only 9, for cripes sake) and the reason behind the murder was left to go unknown.

It's also sad that the family may never be vindicated by finding out who actually murdered their precious daughter. I hope this new discovery at least gives them a little solace and allows time to heal some of the wounds they have sustained over the past twelve years. Can you believe it's been that long? It certainly doesn't seem like it.

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Here's a few pics from our fun night at the fair. If you haven't stopped by, it's well worth the trip. And the pink popcorn was perfect.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Have you seen this story? I can't even wrap my mind around the idea of carrying and delivering over 23 pounds of baby. Thank God for c-sections!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Well, after having poultry braxton hicks for the past week, I think we're gettin' ready to hatch. I just candled the five call ducks and saw little bills and lots of heartbeats. I also have four Silkie eggs (chickens) due tomorrow - that is if I counted correctly (my numbers just haven't been adding up so well lately!). Each of the Silkies looked great and I could see their little beaks pipping away at the interior membrane and shell. Hopefully by tomorrow afternoon, the demanding peeps and pitterpats of little three-toed chicks will be running rampant in my house. Woohoo!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Do Not Feed The Trolls!

Do you know what a troll is? No, not the warty kind that eats little children and lives under bridges. I'm talking about internet trolls that lurk on bulletin boards and in comments sections, leaving anonymous words of wisdom for those blessed to have received them. Their comments are usually negative in nature and are an attempt to disrupt whatever posting they have encountered. Sometimes, the brave ones will give themselves a name; more often than not, they rely on "anonymous" as they don't have the cajones to identify themselves.

I consider myself so lucky in that I've picked up two little anonymous trolls recently based on the TS publishing one of my blogs in print. You can see all the gory details here.

The first troll seems to be intelligent or at least he/she has her thesaurus opened up when composing their sentence. Good for him/her.

The second troll, well, between all the "???" and "!!!", I really don't understand what point they are trying to express. Maybe I've made some teenage fans?

I welcome all comments - just don't expect me to publish them if they're overly negative or a personal attack against me or my family (which yes, I have received). I expect people to disagree with me on some things but mostly, I just expect people to laugh and say, "Hey! My kid does that too!" If you disagree with a particular topic then fine, disagree! But do so in a way that's constructive rather than playground antics. I provide points to ponder...a quick read with some goofy photos thrown in here and there.

I also moderate my blog in an attempt to keep it family friendly. The porn bots tend to be attracted to some of my titles so unless you need the Viagra or Cialis, you will not be weeding through these comments. Troll 1 & 2, I can forward you these comments should you find your prescription is running short.

This is a blog meant to be an online journal of some of the cool things I've experienced with my family. If that's not your cup of tea, then move on. Don't let the door hitcha where the good Lord splitcha. No one wants to hear from self-proclaimed Dr. Phil's who refuse to even identify themselves in a forum. I want credentials, not troublemakers.

If you'd like further information, here ya go:

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I don't consider myself to be a super religious person nor do I believe in any one particular belief. I tend to subscribe to a smorgasbord of religious substances based on a few classes I took in college and some personal advice from family and friends. Even as a child, we only went to church on Easter Sunday and that was so Dad could hide the Easter eggs in peace and Mom could get her yearly dose of church. Lame, I know.

I do, however, have my own beliefs and during recent times have found myself asking for favors from God. I actually felt pretty selfish doing so since I really haven’t upheld my part in going to church, reading the bible, and so on. I'd usually premise my prayers with a little introduction since He (or She, depending on what you believe) probably didn't have a clue as to who this strange person was, asking for things when she never even bothered to first establish a relationship. My prayers were usually rough going in nature because for one thing, I really don't know the etiquette of a good prayer so I'm sure I committed some sort of heavenly faux pas with some of the words I used.

Ultimately, my crude attempt at praying paid off in that I felt so much better after doing so. In my own way, I was doing all that I could physically, emotionally, and spiritually do for my dad. Plus, when I suggested to my oldest that she should pray when she felt sad, I didn’t feel like such a hypocrite. For me, praying was sort of a way to vent but at the same time a way to try and regain control over an uncontrollable situation.

Where am I going with this blog? Why am I rambling to you about my inner battles with religion and overall lack of relationship with God? This is why:

My dad does not have cancer.

Yep, what was Stage 4 last week is now benign; an “atypical” infection at most. Sure, he’s still sick but he’s not on cancer’s time-frame. The pathologist sliced and diced through five segments of his tumor and could not find one cancer cell. The doctors are not even sure these “tumors” are labeled correctly; they may just be severe inflammation. He has an additional lung biopsy scheduled for next week that will hopefully give us the exact cause of his illness. It’s a much more invasive procedure that will take a slice of his lung “pie” rather than just a taste.

I don’t really want to label this event as a “miracle” when in actuality, it was probably just a grave misdiagnosis. But, it feels so much better to just believe – even if it’s just for a moment. I found that my crude understanding of religion at least made my dad's illness a little more tolerable - believing in something rather than nothing gave me a sense of peace that I can't quite explain. I'm not going to say that my renewed sense of faith will last nor do I know where it will take me or my family, but I’m definitely not going to ignore it. Maybe it’s time for me to start cultivating a new relationship with God so that I’m no longer a stranger just making random requests.

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Everyone knows that you are not supposed to take advantage of people in fragile state because it's just wrong. I explained this to Uncle R but evidently, he thought it would be more fun to pull one over on our dear dad - because he had the perfect opportunity to. Plus, it's kind of up in the air how fragile 'ole dad is as of this point, so I'll let this one go.

My dad recently succumbed to technology and decided to get a cell phone. Concerned that he was sucking up too much memory, he mentioned to my brother that he'd been diligent in deleting all incoming and out going calls and messages. My brother told him this was a good idea because all the extra messages would make the phone much more "heavy" to pack.

My dad pondered this for a moment, visualizing whether or not he felt that his phone was "heavier" since he did have some undeleted messages. I heard he even pulled the phone out and did a little balancing act - but that's still up in the air based on who you talk to.

Uncle R kept it together for a few more minutes and then Dad finally realized he was joking when Uncle R started to crack a smile. Dad finally confessed that he hadn't noticed any change in weights no matter how many messages he had and thought that maybe he had a damaged phone. Uncle R received a much needed fatherly admonishment and I got the best part; a funny story to share with the world :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Finally, we have movement! Dad is scheduled for an additional CT scan tomorrow and then one of two things will happen:

1. No growth, no biope. Oops, it's probably not cancer.
2. Growth, immediate biope. Finally (hopefully) some results.

I am rooting so hard for #1 but trying to stay reasonable enough to realize we're more than likely still dealing with #2. The roller coaster of emotions have been worse than any carnival ride I've ever experienced!

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Since my dad was diagnosed with cancer, I've struggled to make sure that my kids were aware of the situation and comfortable enough to ask any questions they happened to conjure up. I don't want Grandpa's sickness to be a scary thing and I certainly want to prepare them for what lies ahead.

My five year old has been quiet about the whole situation and I contemplated whether or not he even understood what was going on. I didn't press the issue with him until he asked me:

"Mom, what color is cancer?"

Hmmm....I wan't sure how to answer. I thought about it for a minute and before I could reply he told me that he thought it was green. A little green alien invading Grandpa's lungs. I told C-dub that I thought he was right and I left it at that. I was happy that he was finally talking about it but I didn't want to confuse him with specifics. To me, he was processing the situation just fine and the sad parts could be left for the grownups.

The next day, Grandpa D stopped by for a visit. C-dub saw him arrive and again asked him the same question he had asked me. I think Grandpa D was taken back a bit because so far, he's only had adults asking him very specific questions about treatments and symptoms; nothing like this. Grandpa D told him told him he wasn't sure but that he'd find out. The conversation was left at that and I didn't think Grandpa D had thought much more about it.

The following week, Grandpa D had his lung biopsy done. When I finally spoke to him later that day, he told me to tell C-dub, "it was off-white." I didn't know what he was talking about and he reminded me of C-dub's question. I swallowed down tears when he explained to me how he had asked the doctor performing the biopsy what color his cancer was, because his grandson needed to know. Of all the things to worry about during this procedure, he still asked for the color.

I promised Grandpa D that I'd relay the message and I later did. C-dub contemplated the color for just a moment and again asked me, “It's weally not gween, Mom?" I assured him that it wasn't and explained to him about the procedure that Grandpa D had went through and how definitive the doctor's answer was. C-dud thought about it for a moment and then went back to playing with his Hotwheels, happy with the information he now had.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Another one for Uncle R to complain about...

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Over eight years ago, I was blessed with the opportunity to be a mother. I remember bringing home Taterbug from the hospital and suddenly realizing what a huge responsibility Hubby and I were undertaking...and how we were pretty sure the hospital wouldn't take returns should we change our mind on parenthood. Kidding. We loved our kids from the start and it was the kind of love that saw us through colic, teething, ear infections, and any other random act of discomfort that caused unending crying or whining. All the smiles, first words, funny sounds, and slobbery wet kisses made up for any temporary discomfort we might have experienced. I love my kids more than anything else in the world and I can't say enough thanks to Hubby for giving them to me.

While our life as parents is full of butterflies and gumdrops, I did have a moment to reflect upon the harder times - the times when I'm reminded of how fragile and demanding they can be. How late night dreams and scary outside sounds can talk any kid into thinking a serial murderer is outside their door - and the persistent request that they need to sleep in mom and dad's bed, be honored.

The Culprits:

Taterbug's gonna need a gallon of conditioner for that hairdo or hairdon't:

For a tattooed little punk, you'd think C-dub would be a little braver:

Happy Mother's Day!

Posted by Mommazilla at 01:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

For awhile now, Uncle R and I have been the best of friends. We can pretty much talk about anything, that is as long as I agree with his beliefs and don't throw in too many big words when we argue - then everything’s butterflies and gumdrops.

When we were kids, we pretty much despised one another. We took great pride in terrorizing each other and then making "official reports" to our parents in order to narc the other one out. One such “report” involved Uncle R getting caught flipping me the bird during an argument and then me cackling as I watched him eat a mouthful of liquid Dawn dish soap as punishment. Yes, Karma did kick my butt later on because I had been the one to teach him how to display the magical finger (I learned from a third grade playground lesson) and in fact, I was just quick enough that day not to get caught.

Uncle R and I really didn’t live around a lot of kids growing up so it was just him and I for the most part. When new kids did move into the area, Uncle R and I indoctrinated them into our familial gang through lots of play/torture sessions. Once they passed our tests, we swore to have summers full of fun memories and lots of scabs, bruises, and an occasional trip to the ER.

One such indoctrinated member was a girl we’ll call “Miss C.” Miss C was a worldly gal and taught me a ton about cursing and boys. She also taught Uncle R a bunch about huggin’ and smoochin’ but that’s a story I’ve been sworn to secrecy about…

During a summer in the late 1980’s, the coolest play toy we had was our little red wagon. We’d push each other around for hours and when we’d get tired of pushing, we’d tie the wagon handle to the back of someone’s bike and then tow the other person around. It was fun but the temptation of Miss C’s house, which was located high on a hill (and would not require any pushing in order to drive the wagon), was overwhelming. We fought the temptation off for several weeks but then decided to give in. After all, we had a willing victim to try the ride out first, Miss C.

The day of the test ride was a beautiful sunny day and we had spent much of the morning successfully passing Miss C through the laundry chute (and going through a tub of the finest Mazola spread). While we were wiping the chute down, Uncle R and I casually explored the idea of hill riding with Miss C. She was reluctant at first, but we swore to her that we’d be right there at the bottom of the hill, waiting for our turn. We told her how special she was and how much we liked her, therefore we were allowing her the very first, most awesome ride in our fancy wagon. With brown nosing like that, how could she not agree? And she did. We were thrilled (with hidden maniacal laughing included).

Uncle R ran home to our house and returned about 10 minutes later with our red wagon in tow. We positioned the wagon at the top of the driveway, where the gravel was the shallowest and the hill was the steepest. After a few silent prayers and pats on the back, we gave the wagon a push and Miss C flew down the hill. The shrill screams didn't stop until the wagon wheels stopped spinning. Uncle R and I shielded our eyes all the way down the hill; as we ran down to see what sort of destruction had occurred to our wagon and to Miss C. When we got to her, she was grinning ear to ear, and thankfully, our wagon was still in one piece.

Uncle R and I then had a quick meeting while Miss C picked the bugs out of her teeth. Surely, this was not the ride we were looking for. We wanted the wagon ride to produce screams and terror, but what we had just witnessed just didn't have the baddah bing we had expected. We decided then and there, we had to move farther down the hill, where there was no gravel to slow our rubber wheels. After more cajoling and a little schmoozing, Miss C agreed to again be our test pilot and we slowly walked down the hill, scoping out the perfect location.

We found the spot, about 200 yards from our previous location. It was a slick, paved road that looked like a giant cement slip-n-slide. It was perfect.

The brown nosing must have worn out a bit because Miss C was starting to wise up to our game. She was beginning to understand that we were using her as our little guinea pig and that her mortality was at stake. Because of his, I had to promise her my best Sandylion sticker book, complete with the newest chocolate scratch-n-sniff stickers. She ran a hard bargain, but Uncle R and I really wanted to know if this ride would work.

We positioned Miss C at the top of the crest, again saying our silent prayers and holding our rosaries close (OK, no rosaries but we did cross our hearts when we promised to follow her down the hill - does that count?). With a gentle push (trust me, she needed no help with the momentum) she started to roll, actually, fly down the hill.
We heard screams, a couple of "I don't think this was a good ideaaaaaa!!!" and a lot of, "I'm gonna crash, aghhh!!!" and then silence followed by a crash and more screams - different screams on a whole 'nother octave.

We ran down the hill and saw that Miss C had driven into the culvert, as an attempt to prevent driving into the 45 mph road she was speeding towards. Rut roh, we hadn't even put the culvert much less the highway, into our scheme of things. Miss C was OK, although she had received scrapes to her knees, elbows, face, and pretty much any other area that was exposed. She also had tore her acid washed Guess? jeans and scuffed up her LA Gears. And even worse, our little red wagon had sustained several dents and scrapes - unable to be fixed enough to hide from our dad.

We begged and pleaded for Miss C to stop crying as we already knew that she was going to tell on us - we didn't want the neighbors ratting us out as well. Uncle R pulled while I pushed a gimp Miss C to our house. We did our best to clean her up with the garden hose so that our parents wouldn't notice any obvious fresh signs of trauma. There wasn't much we could do for the wagon, so we just hid it in the front yard hoping our parents would discover its war wounds on a later date and contribute its injuries to being exposed to the weather.

In the end, Miss C was fine and my mom gave her a ride home. We all ended up getting into trouble but one good thing did come out of it; we at least discovered that we could safely ride the red wagon down a portion of her hill and that's what we did for the entire summer. No Atari or Nintendo for us; we rode bikes and obliterated that red wagon. We made great, painful memories that summer and in case you were wondering, Miss C grew into a lovely young woman and from what I hear, hangs out with much better people now :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I was just verbally acosted (via phone) by an angry Uncle R and his buddy Bowflex...they're tired of the artsy fartsy pic's I've been posting lately. I told them to get a life and to start enjoying a higher class of livin'. You know, the kind where you hold your pinky up when you're sippin' your jack and coke from a teacup. Anyhoo, I promised them I'd try and get back to the honery old Mommazilla but I'm at loss for good fodder. My family has been insanely normal these days - in fact, too normal. I think they're minding their "P's" and "Q's" for fear they'll end up online. Oh well, perfection won't last. I'm off to dig into the memory vaults of Uncle R's childhood. I know I'll find something a little entertaining and more than likely embarrassing to his psyche. He and Bowflex should watch what they ask for, you just never know when Karma will bite.

Enjoy some LOL Catz while I think of something funny:

For Uncle R:

more cat pictures

For Bowflex:

more cat pictures

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I just couldn't help myself...

Really, it's the lilacs fault for bein' so darn purdy this year. It's my last shot - I promise :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I wasn't the only one enjoying the sunny weather today...the pesky weeds were as well.

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

We just had another earthquake. Here's what I found here:

Magnitude 5.4 - duration magnitude (Md)
Time Tuesday, April 29, 2008 at 8:03:06 PM (PDT)
Wednesday, April 30, 2008 at 3:03:06 (UTC)
Distance from Willow Creek, CA - 18 km (11 miles) ESE (114 degrees)
Blue Lake, CA - 42 km (26 miles) E (97 degrees)
Hayfork, CA - 42 km (26 miles) NW (315 degrees)
Eureka, CA - 56 km (35 miles) E (85 degrees)
Sacramento, CA - 307 km (191 miles) NW (326 degrees)
Coordinates 40 deg. 50.2 min. N (40.836N), 123 deg. 29.7 min. W (123.495W)
Depth 17.9 km (11.1 miles)
Location Quality Fair
Location Quality Parameters Nst=140, Nph=140, Dmin=49 km, Rmss=0.18 sec, Erho=0.3 km, Erzz=1.4 km, Gp=93.6 degrees

Holy crap! A 5.4?! It seriously did not feel that strong down here in the Eel Valley. While I find earthquakes a little exciting, I still get the same anxiety wondering if this will be the "one." If you don't already have an emergency plan or at least some items to get you through at least a week (should services be entirely shutdown), you might want to reconsider. You can never be too prepared because the "big one" is inevitable.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I don't consider myself to be a very religious person but I do believe in "signs." Like, I drive past McDonald's and there's no one in the drive-thru plus I have an extra three bucks in my pocket. Yes, that's completely a sign that I need to swing in and buy a McFlurry. Or, I see a plate with a couple of cookies on it in my kitchen and I need just one more plate to fill the dishwasher up - yep, you guessed it, another sign.

Well, today the signs were not too nice to me today as they were directed towards my love of ice cream. I love ice cream, especially when I can eat it by myself and not share. Selfish - yes, but I don't care. It just so happened that this morning, I realized if I used the rest of the milk for my cereal, I'd have to go to the store before Gun-Gun could have his morning hot cocoa. Not wanting to torture my youngest heathen, I opened the freezer and saw the delicious glow of a half gallon of Schwan's chocolate chip ice cream.

I quietly removed the box in order to prevent any vertically challenged roommates from hearing what I was doing. I then broke out the caramel and hot fudge sauce, as I knew that I'd need the extra calories today since we might go on a walk later. You must stock pile energy and dessert toppings are an excellent source. With the toppings heating, I then addressed the frozen happiness.

But the delectable dessert wasn't having it. It was beyond frozen; it was fossilized. I broke out a steak knife and began gnawing at it as if I were sawing a log in half like a pioneer woman. When that didn't work, I broke out my favorite mini spatula (thanks Pampered Chef!) and began hacking away. Finally, relief came in the form of three two inch blocks of ice cream with a wad of gooey caramel and hot fudge. I then sequestered myself in my bedroom with the TV blaring a movie showing on LMN - the most addicting channel on TV.

Perhaps it was a sign that I shouldn't be eating ice cream sundaes for breakfast, or maybe it just wasn't. Maybe the higher power who was watching me struggle through breakfast was actually making things more difficult in order that I had a forced session of exercise. Whatever the case maybe, I thoroughly enjoyed my breakfast and the 50,000 calories it contained.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

The warm weather we had last weekend certainly pushed our family into "go" mode. We spent the time beautifying our yard - in other words, Hubby mowed while I conducted a private conversation with our fruit trees. I politely asked them to hurry up and do their thing. While I appreciate beautiful blossoms, I long for fresh apples, peaches, pears, plums, and blackberries. I think they understood as I swear there were even more blossoms the next day.

Here are some of my conversation counterparts:

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I love photography and I recently have started getting a little more serious about it. In other words, I got an expensive camera and I've been limping through the learning process. With the help of friends, some good books, and several online communities, I've been able to learn a lot about photograpy and how take take (and fix!) almost great pictures.

For Christmas this year, Hubby bought me a Canon Rebel XTi. It's 10.1 mega pixels of love and affection and it's truly been my new best friend. My little Canon goes everywhere with me and I've gotten it several little buddies to keep it company (lenses). I am a totaly newbie when it comes to photography so I did a lot of research on what sort of lens to buy. It you are a first time "nice" camera owner, I strongly suggest buying a "nifty fifty" which costs less than $100 and takes excellent, crisp, relatively close-up shots. I also love my telephoto lens (75-300 mm) because it allows you to get up close to subjects who might otherwise not want their pictures taken (birds, kids, Hubby, etc.).

On a side note about my telephoto lens, I actually received this lens for free due to the actions of the best neighbor in the world, Mr. A. He had mentioned to me that he had an old camera with a couple of lenses he wanted to give to me for the kids. He had got the whole set-up during a rummage sale and it had been sitting in his garage for months. I didn't give it much thought until he brought it over and opened the camera bag. I seriously heard angels sing and a golden light emanated from the bag...it was an old Canon Rebel, complete with four lenses that were compatible with my camera! The telephoto lens alone was probably worth at least $300 and it quickly became my favorite. And no, mean Mommazilla did not let the kids have the camera. Sorry twerps.

OK, back to the story at hand. You don't need an expensive camera to take great pictures, but a camera with more features will give you a lot more control over your settings and picture quality. I never shoot in "Auto" mode; rather, I take the harder route and shoot in "Manual." This allows me to change the settings so that I can get different effects on how my pictures look. I'm not going to profess to being an expert at the settings on my camera nor will I sit here and explain the joys of aperture, focus and ISO, but I will give you a few resources that I have used to learn more:

* Go buy the book Understanding Exposure by Bryan Peterson. For less than $20, you get can a beautiful, easy to follow pictorial essay of how to work your digital camera. I love this book and consider it to be an absolute necessity for good picture taking. There are a lot of good books out there, but this is my favorite.

* Join the website, I Love Photography. It's FREE and has so many great resources for the amateur or professional photographer.

* Read, The Pioneer Woman. Besides being an awesome website for fun stories and recipes, she is an excellent photographer and includes a section with free tips for photography and Photoshop.

* Visit the Babycenter, "Photographing Your Family" site. This is a very nurturing, loving, peaceful, rewarding (yes, I could go on and on) board with amateur and professional (mostly women - sorry guys) photographers who can give you excellent tips.

I'm going to share a little secret with you. You don't always have to take great pictures in order to make them look like great pictures. Buy a computer program that will make the magic happen for you; Photoshop. There are several versions of Photoshop ranging from lots of money to less than $100. I am a cheapskate, so I have the cheaper Photoshop Elements version that I paid around $120 for. I love, love, love this program.

I can take a picture that looks like this (SOOC - straight out of the camera - not a bad shot to begin with):

and turn it into this:

or this:

or perhaps this:

or maybe even this:

And, you can add borders, even more special effects, and God knows what else. The possibities are endless with a good photo imaging program.

Once you have a program like Photoshop, the cool thing is is that people love to share things with you. People like you or me, or Photoshop professionals, will create certain looks called "actions." Actions are a set of steps they have done in order to create a photo effect. So rather that you having to figure out how to do it, you can download the zip file into your program, and then run it on your photos. With a "Dramatic" action I found, I was able to turn this photo:

into this:

Trust me, without the action, I don't think I would have ever thought up something like this look, but I love the effect. Here are some links to great sites with free actions, brushes, etc. Before you download, make sure that the actions wll work in your version of software. Many people with create items that work in the fancy, smancy version of Photoshop, but not in Elements.

* The Orton Effect (that wonderful, glowing look, really softens photos)

* The Color Pop (learn how to really make your colors come alive)

* The Eye Pop (dramatic eyes will always make a photo beautiful)

* How to install actions into your software (it's confusing and you may initially curse, ALOT, but keeping practicing and it will work - I promise!)

I seriously have only just scratched the surface of photography and photo editing. I hope I've given you some useful information or at least perked your interest in experimentation. Because that's what I do constantly; experiment and then delete...and delete...and even more deleting. But who the heck cares? You get that much better when you practice and when you get that one perfect shot, it's entirely worth it. Happy shooting!

Edited to add: I can't believe I forgot to mention Gimp. It's a FREE photo editing program that you can find at gimp.org It's very similar to Photoshop Elements but it's free. Happy editing!

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I must admit, I'm a total weirdo when it comes to old things - well, maybe I should clarify. Old people -eh, give and take, but old artifacts, now that's my bag. Awhile back, Grandpa D decided to help us by pulling out an old bushy tree that was blocking our front yard. When he did, we discovered a long lost well that previous owners had thrown old bottles, farm equipment, and a tire into as fill and then had planted the nasty tree on top of it. We cleaned the well out and inspected each item with plenty of "oohs!" and "aahhs!" It was so neat and my kiddos really got a kick out of Mommazilla being excited about "junk."

Due to this strange love of old things, I took special delight in finding an ancient car parked on my neighbor's property just adjacent to the fenceline. Lucklily for me, it was parked closed enough so that I didn't have to break too many trespass laws in order to get a closer look.

At first glance, it's a junky old car that's been left to die under a couple of redwood trees and some blackberry vines. I'd like to think that the owner was so in love with this car they he/she decided to put it out to pasture rather than donate it to the junkyard. It's a much happier thought so I'm going with this version of the story. I think it's so much more....

At First Glance...

At First Glance...(softened)

Handle Dreams...

Handles Dreams...(softened)

The Light Has Dimmed...

The Light Has Dimmed...(softened)

Posted by Mommazilla at 06:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

While walking in my orchard today I saw this little hold-out, barely hanging on by it's rotten little stem. I pondered it for a moment thinking that it was a good visual that nature can sometimes throw it's middle finger up at the elements, as if daring the rain or cold to make it fall and finally release it's tiny little seeds into the Earth. But yet, it hangs in there and has since at least October, when it's brother and sister fruits were plentiful and delicious.

I'm excited to see all the new sweet smelling blossoms but once in awhile, it's nice to see an oldie but goodie hanging in there, serving as a memory of a bountiful harvest and a reminder of the natural treats awaiting us next fall.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Hi, my name is Gun-Gun, and I'm going to tell you about the adventure that Daddy and I had today in the bathroom.

Do you know what happens when Mommy and I clean the bathroom? We find lots of these:

Sometimes they're clean and we put 'em back. But if they're dirty, Mommy let's me flush'em! I loveeee to watch them flushie! Daddy says that this is not a good idea and they can get stuck. I guess he was right 'cuz when Sissy flushed the toiwlet today, it didn't go nowhere. Daddy was mad. He said the whole toiwlet would haf to come out and I gotta help! I was so 'cited!

We worked sooo hard! I'm a weal hard worker.

But I got kinda bored, so I worked on the Kleenex holder instead.

But then I got back to work. Daddy needed help, bad!

Daddy finally got the toiwlet out and guess what he found? My flushie Q-tips! Three of 'em! So Daddy put the toiwlet outside and I played cars 'cuz Daddy was startin' to say bad words. And Mommy wasn't havin' any of it!

Then Mommy put me down for my nap. When I woke up, Daddy and I had a talk with Mommy 'bout flushin' stuff. Daddy told Mommy that she was gonna have to buy Adult Proof Q-tips. We told her no more flushin' Q-Tips, or else!

The end!

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

...then you have no sense of humor at all. You probably eat babies, in fact. For the rest of you, enjoy.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Happy Easter!

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Until recently, I've never been too concerned about my weight, as I've given into the fact that I'm a happily married mom of three, and the stretch marks alone prevent me from even considering a bikini to be a wardrobe option. Aside from that, it would be an awful lot to ask of one piece of stretchy material and a couple pieces of nylon. The potential for catastrophe would be great; both to the general population and my psyche.

I recently stepped on the bathroom scale, primarily to move it out of the way with my foot but secretly to see what sort of extra poundage I was carrying on my formally petite frame. Being pleasantly unsurprised, I confirmed my suspicions that I had perhaps gained a few "issues" during the holiday season. All the cookies, cakes, brownies, ice cream and chocolately mochas, had gained the best of me, while adding at least an inch of blubber onto my butt. These “issues” were only compounded by the previous “issues” given to me by my darling children.

Flip forward to now; it’s been an excellent year full of changes and new beginnings. Because of this, I’ve decided to take a more active role in managing my health. I'd like to share three of the things I've been doing in the hopes of potentially inspiring those of you who are unsure about making that leap of faith into weight loss. My first step was working on portion control. Rather than eating an entire Reese’s Peanut Butter cup, I only eat the center or the outside portion. I then walk to the farthest garbage can and throw the cup wrapper away, in order to burn additional calories.

Another prime weight loss technique that I’m currently utilizing is walking. Should I choose to eat the occasional piece of cake or ice cream cone, I do so while walking around the living room, kitchen, etc. This way, calories are being burnt in the process and I’m actually facing a negative turnaround in calorie consumption.

My final weight loss secret is what I like to call “Calorie Holidays.” If I declare a special holiday (anniversary, birthday, first day of my period, yada, yada…) then I can determine the value of a calorie on that particular day. Most often on these declared holidays I can easily eat a 50 calorie slab of chocolate cake or a 25 calorie Snickers bar. It’s truly amazing to manage your own weight loss!

It’s also very nice that some local businesses are also helping in my quest for weight loss. I would like to thank Starbucks for their “skinny lattes.” I’m a huge fun of false happiness in a cup and Starbucks is my BFF because of this. Their skinny caramel latte, when pared with a 25 calorie Snickers bar, is a wonderful, quick breakfast that hits most of the major food groups (milk group, nut group, chocolate group…). It gives you boundless energy so that you can yell, run, and even scream at your children for at least two hours – not the one hour coverage that just a normal cup of coffee and a sugary donut provides. Again, not that I want to brag, but in actuality one is truly earning negative turnaround calorie consumption when eating such a breakfast and throwing a momma tantrum or partaking amongst a hissy fit.

I’d also like to comment on the powerful diuretic qualities that these little 16 ounce bundles of joy contain. If you are having problems with water retention; fear no more. The amazing water release combined with a squished mommy bladder guarantee that at least one gallon of urine will pass through your bladder within an hour of drinking this magical elixir. ** Please note that this powerful effect only seems to effect those women who have had their urinary tract system previously pummeled by little fetus feet and fists.

Remember, weight loss management is a beautiful, simplistic process, when done correctly and consistently. I'm sure if you take some of my advice, you will definately see a difference and be back into that favorite muffin top and matching polyester drawers in no time! Good luck!!

This blog was written under the superb guidance of professional body builders Uncle R and Ironman J. I would to thank them for their superb wisdom and willingness to wear spandex, knee high socks, and cut off t-shirts, much to the dismay of their fellow workout partners. They make uncomfortable straining, sweaty buttcracks, and strained hemmies look unbelieveably good and envious to the weaklings around them.

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I feel bad for any delivery person that has to breech the threshold of my driveway. Between the gang of chickens, wild one-horned goat, and neighbor's over excited peeing machine (a.k.a. male dog), their vehicle is surely to be defiled by some critter...two if they're lucky. Besides the animals, they're usually faced with at least one or two half-naked kids and a mean Mommazilla yelling at them to cover up their goodies. Last week proved to be no different when the gentleman from Schwan's brought our family my "home cooked" meals.

I saw Chico's floppy goat ears perk up at the sound of the loud diesel motor purring down our driveway. When he did his little prance and a kick, I knew that it was the Schwan's truck as Chico loves visitors, especially ones that deliver food and delectable head scratches. We have a wonderful patient Schwan's guy (SG) that not only puts up with the unruly goat, but also helps to give my children ideas of what sweet treats his magical "ice cream truck" (according to C-dub) contains. A couple of visits ago he was so nice to even supply C-dub and Taterbug with a catalog, for easier shopping. Five pounds and an extra $20 later, we were set with four different types of ice cream confections that I happily quality controlled for the sake of my children.

On this particular visit, Chico did his best to follow SG all around his truck, nosing him around as SG quickly gathered our order together. Chico would casually nibble on SG's date book and chew on the ice whenever the freezer compartment was open. SG was careful to make sure that Chico did not abscond with any of his frozen concoctions and even more careful to protect his own family jewels as Chico was feeling especially amorous today, sharing the head butting love of his one horn.

As I was waiting, I struggled to keep Gun-Gun out of the lake size mud puddle that had grown at the edge of our driveway. Gun-Gun had proclaimed his wish to "STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!" in the water, with or without my final approval. I finally picked him up in my arms while SG brought over our frozen goodies. SG proceeded to explain the monthly specials while Gun-Gun continued to wiggle and squirm. He did his best mommy torture by constantly beeping my nose with his tiny little dirty and stinky fingers, and then arching his back in an attempt to perform a five foot high dive trick. He finally stopped wiggling and I heard him start chanting. At first it was silent and then the melodic sounds got louder as I attempted to figure out what he was saying over and over again. "Booobeees! Booobeees! Booobeees, mama!" I then felt a sudden burst of cold air and looked down to see that Gun-Gun had hooked his little finger in the top of my shirt, pulling it out and peering down it as if in attempt to start an echo of his chanting. Boobies! It was finally clear as day. Gun-Gun was using his developing category and precocious baby skills to show SG my boobies. SG cleared his throat, chuckling, and put away his sales flyer. I smiled back and told him, "I guess that will be it for today. I think we've both seen enough."

SG left and I took Gun-Gun and my home-cooked meals into the house. Gun-Gun continued to play peek-a-boo in my shirt and throughout the day would check in on his new "friends." SG has yet to return back to my house but I feel as though our relationship has progressed to a much higher level. I most certainly will buy an extra set of chicken enchiladas next week, and perhaps some extra brownie cups. He earned it through our painful *confidential* understanding and willingness not to laugh too hard at my "goodies."

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:06 PM | Permalink

Did you know that Hotwheels cars do this neat spinning, swishy thing as they’re being flushed down the toilet by a two year old? Or, how they tend to only block up sewage lines and septic tanks when you’re getting ready to leave that same day for vacation? And, how nice it is to watch your hubby, dressed in his finest trip attire, “snaking” the clogged drain all the while educating your children on the functions of a septic tank and the importance of “poop soup” (as labeled by the eight year old daughter).

Welcome to my life! The one that doesn’t follow any of the finest child rearing books or lesson plans, because evidently, my own kids have not read them either. I’m a dedicated wife, loving mom to three, and self-proclaimed amateur photographer, cake decorator, genealogist, bargain shopper, and now, blogger. I tend to start hobbies that I never fully learn, hence the title, “amateur” on the previously mentioned titles – I guess I may have commitment problems but I think it’s an issue of “time” rather than “want.” I think any parent can relate; if you can’t perform it one handed, talking on the phone while changing a diaper and cleaning up dog barf, then it’s just not the hobby for you. I figure that I will get my hobbies back about the time I retire!

My family and children are my life providing me with as much fodder as necessary to complete my ramblings. We live a relatively uncomplicated life as working parents and owners of a small, completely worthless farm that we like to call, “Redneck Ranch.” We have three fish, eleven chickens, a one-horned house goat (or so he thinks), three stinky dogs, and several deer, a bear and a bobcat that came free with the house. Our chickens have completely mauled my favorite, beautiful Rhody by claiming it as their roost and our goat loves when new people visit, especially when they have shiny paint jobs that he can see his new friends in (a.k.a. his reflection – not the brightest goat on the block). Needless to say, you need to watch where you step when you hit our driveway.

As far as the kids and hubby go, they’re fairly low maintenance and easy to please. As the saying goes, we “live, laugh, and love” a lot around our household. There are nightly karate tournaments, wedgie sessions, and the all time favorite of, “Who can talk the two year old into doing the naughtiest thing (game)?” It’s a fun place to live, not only for the kids but for the grown-ups as well.

And then there’s me, a 30’ish working mom still trying to figure out what she wants to be when she grows up. What the heck, who cares? Does anyone ever really figure that out? I truly doubt it but I secretly hope that it eventually happens. What you’ll find on my blog are my rants, raves, and observations of my family and friends as well as any other item(s) I think might be helpful to parents, like the occasional bargain – locally or online (like Target and Rite Aid Christmas items are at 75% off, run!!!!). I’m sarcastic by nature and don’t mind making fun of myself or immediate family should the need arise. Just ask my brother, who shed a silent tear when he heard I may become a T-S blogger - he’s been the root of several of my more interesting stories.

So come on in, take a seat, grab a cup of caffeine-loaded liquid (the kind that makes the world seem like a better place), and share some quality time with Mommazilla.

Posted by Blog Admin at 04:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)