This whole blogging madness started for me on January 11th, 2008. Now here we are almost two years later, and I'm calling it a night. I appreciate those of you who took the time to stop by and read the meandering posts or glance at the embarassing photos I captured of my family. I've really enjoyed spilling the family secrets and sharing with you the crazy thing I call my life.

2010 is going to be a challenging year for me on many different levels. Please wish me luck as I do the same to you.

It's been a fun ride.

~Mommazilla, a.k.a. Sandi

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (13)

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Actually, I was "New Moon'd" as I took Taters to see the latest installment of the Twilight movies. Before I go any further, let me first put on a coat of armor over my anti-shark bite suit, as I know I'm about to have sticks, stones and potentially other sharp objects hurled at my anti-Edward and anti-Jacob loathing body.

Let me begin by telling you, yes, I did read the books. In fact I read the first one with much interest as all my girlfriends were in a frantic, almost orgasmic state screaming about the greatness of this vampire and his girlfriend. The book was an easy read and when I was done, I went back through it thinking I had missed something since I wasn't nearly as excited as my friends were. I even plugged on and read the second and then skimmed through the third when I couldn't force myself to read another word. What was the matter with me? What was I not catching onto that these normally sane and intelligent women were seeing? At one point, I even considered having my estrogen levels checked because certainly my womanliness was off in some way since I thought the series was beyond boring and the bloodsucker and his woman to be entirely unlikable characters.

I kept my dislike to myself - not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings or set off an angry mob with torches around my house. The women around me were in love with this series and I felt for my safety, it was just best to shut my mouth, smile and nod along. I even managed to go and see the movie, and sit through an hour and a half of craptastic acting, long weird stares, and an English guy that severely needed a tan and a haircut.

For the past year, the subject of Twilight has slowly simmered in my house. Taters warned me they were making a sequel and in a night of drunkenness promises I told her I'd take her to the next movie when it finally came out.

Fast forward to this weekend, and my little girl, who never forgets a thing, reminded me of my promise. I gulped down the vomit that was bubbling at the back of my throat and promised her endless amounts of cookie dough ice cream and that I'd clean the little box the next five times - but nothing worked and she couldn't be swayed.

Because I'm a tightwad, I told her we'd go but it would need to be a matinee - in order that I could still purchase and consume my 1,600 calories of popcorn and Pepsi (thanks to my BFF Sandruh for that caloric calculation). When we got to the theater, we met Sandruh and were greeted by throngs of teenage girls and a handful of angry looking men with their giddy spouses.

We chose seats towards the front so as to appease my field mouse sized bladder. As soon as the movie started I heard gasps behind me of, "Oh my gawd! Jacob is so FINE. Eff Eye En EE FINE!" I sunk lower into my seat so that my eye rolling did not get catch the attention of the potentially violent hormonal teenage girls.

The movie went by at a pretty steady pace - between the oohs, aahs, and Sandruh's claims that "Jacob" was like a brunette Fabio, I was entertained not only by the crowd but the crappy special wolf effects. Yes, it was a long ass two hours and 10 minutes *ducking*. Taters seemed to enjoy it immensely, as I watched her sit a row away from me. The weird likes to sit right in front and my poor bifocals can't seem to focus right when I sit that close. As we got up to leave, I told Sandruh that I needed to go home and watch the Die Hard series. She frowned at me, obviously not appreciating my need for some real man sweat testosterone.

All in all, no, I didn't care for the movie and I refuse to be on either Team Jacob or Team Edward - honestly, neither one floats my boat. I don't see the draw of the books or movies but millions of other gals do, so maybe my estrogen is low or my lady button is broke. I was trying to think of a comparable series of my childhood, that had the draw of Twilight. Star Wars? Luke was a babe and Han Solo was such a scrumptious man, but seriously, we didn't have the "Team Luke" or "Team Han Solo" that we do now. Or how about "Back to the Future?" Nah, Micheal J. Fox was a cutie but certainly nothing to get my teenager hormones in a tizzy for. I remember being in love with the Coreys', Patrick Swayze, and Ralph Macchio and I'm sure my love was as annoying as the current trend, but 20+ years helps to soothe the memories of Tiger Beat posters and pillow covers ;-).

So, did you see the movie? Did you love it? Hate it? Have no opinion on it? Let me know whatcha think.

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

In the spirit of randomness, and wild trips on codeine cough syrup, I present to you my Funky Friday Fun List. In no particular order...

1. I have an old lady purse. No, it doesn't smell like cat pee or reek of cigarette smoke, it's all about what's inside it...cough drops, chapstick, cough syrup, cold pills, an inhaler, gum, sewing kit, lotion and breath mints...If I added some Rolaids, Tums or even Immodium, I might even totally pass for a hypochondriac.

2. Thanks to the addition of a seven week old furball who hasn't quite figured out the litter box is not a toy box, Gunny has a new word and it's not exactly appropriate for a three year old. I was lamenting to my mom on the phone about the "cat sh*t" smell and how I couldn't find the source. Of course, with his super hearing skills, he began screaming the phrase, looking under shelves and behing bookcases. "Don't worry Momma, I gonna find da cat sh*t for ya!" Thanks Gunny.

3. And speaking of the Gunster, he is now officially potty trained and a self-proclaimed super duper pooper. It's cute but I'm hoping his habit of introducing himself at Starbucks to all the pretty ladies will eventually subside. Not everyone appreciates shaking hands with a three year old screaming, "Hi, I Gunnah, and I poop lots in da potty!"

4. I've wasted the last day and a half trying to install Windows 7 on my new Dell desktop. Half of that time has been spent with Hubby on the phone with tech support. They have one of those automated systems where you say a word and then you get transfered to the right person - normally who reads from a script and can't entirely speak English. Two things I learned today while listening to him on the phone? The f-word is not recognized by the automated system, and you truly can't joke with someone reading from a script. Good times.

5. I've already lamented about my old lady purse...but the cause of it is this damn cold which has established residency in my lungs. I'm on four different drugs - two cough syrups, an antibiotic and an inhaler - and I'm slowly starting to feel better. I've had the cough and ickiness for going on three weeks now - and it truly sucks.

6. The countdown to Black Friday has started...Taters and I will be driving down Thanksgiving night to spend our early morning hours with Aunt D. The stores open at midnight down there and it should be a blast, albeit exhausting!

7. I've watched the movie "Coraline" about a bazillion times and I still can't get over the theater scene with the Aphrodite. My kids willingly close their eyes when the heavyset Goddess in pasties and a g-string does her jiggly thing. Barf.

I think I'm gonna end this list at the #7. I'm starting to bark like a seal and Hubby is holding a fish bucket demanding tricks. Have a fabulous weekend and stay dry!

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

Holy moly, I would have loved to be present for this little girl's show and tell.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thank you...

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Through my Dayquil haze, I have a coupla thoughts for this beautiful, yet rainy, Monday morning...

1. I don't get Lady Gaga, but I sure like her music. The blood thing, the getting thrown off a balcony and doing her dance with crutch thingies, the whole weird costume get-up - yeah, at least she's got the pipes that make up for her "uniqueness."

2. Anyone else think that "Shake Weight" thing is just a little obscene? Or is it just me? I think this particular exercise is why most teen boys have nice arms. *snort*

3. I'm sending Kevin Federline a box of condoms and some tiny rubberbands with some sterilization suggestions. He's rumored to have knocked up his current girlfriend here. Three babies' mommas with one of them being Britney Spears? What the heck is up with this guy? I'm just not seeing it...

4. I think I'm anti-female. First, it was my utter dislike of the movie, "Mama Mia," which proved that my estrogen levels were lacking. Now, it's my girlfriends extreme infatuation with the "Twilight" movies. I'm ducking when I say this, but I have to say I just don't get it. Between the craptastic acting and the strange, long stares, the movie really creeped me out. I tried reading the books to catch the vibe but I just don't get it. Taters, on the other hand, considers me to be a female freak of nature. She's "Team Jacob" by the way...

5. On the topic of cussing - C-dub asked me if the lights went out again, if he was allowed to utter a few curse words here and there. His reasoning? It would be "emergency cussing."

6. The Hubby and I took the kids to the Gem and Mineral Show at Redwood Acres over the weekend. I'm happy to say that my vacuum cleaner is cleaned out and ready to go for the next 20lb batch of rocks we managed to bring home. In all seriousness, the kids had a ball and the people up there put on an excellent show.

7. Taters amazes me each day with her artistic creativity. Her most current piece of work? A cross-dressing prince. I'm so proud (and yes, he is saying, "I'm so pretty."):

8. I can't believe that my seven year old is balling because my three year old is chanting, "wimpy,wimpy, wimpeeee!!!!' as he plays Wii. Someone is a little sensitive today.

9. Puberty is slowing rearing its ugly little head in my house. Taterbug informed me that some actor she saw the other day was "utterly scrumptious." I don't really know what that means but I did remind her of the cootie factor and that boys tend to pick their noses and smell their farts. I think my suggestions fell upon deaf ears.

10. I'm not digging the current Reebok commercials. The particular one I'm talking about focuses on a woman's breasts and then butt for the duration of the commercial. Taterbug saw it and her comment summed it up the best, "That was about shoes, Mom?" I know that at least 50% of our population is gonna disagree with me about this:

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

...is the last day I remember being healthy. The last day I could breathe outta both of my nostrils and the last day my nose wasn't a beautiful shade of magenta. I'm sick, whiny, and irritable - not a good combination, but it at least explains a little of my blog absentia.

Since the only thing my brain is channeling is snot bubbles and Kleenex bits, I will share a few videos guaranteed to make you smile or at least chuckle - or just keep you awake.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I watched the "Today Show" this morning, and they had a special segment on women who have "Superior Wife Syndrome" or are the "Wife-In-Chief" for the family. These are the wives and moms who do all the family multi-tasking, planning, ordering, and God forbid (*insert dramatic gasp*)... essentially run the household.

I guess my first mistake was watching the "Today Show" prior to a heavy caffeine intake. My second mistake? Listening to such rubbish and not jumping through the TV and bitch slapping the three broads who were discussing this topic with such domestic fervor and 1950's housewife wit. Now that I have calmed down and composed myself to the best of my cold coffee and bathrobe wearing abilities, I'd like to share with you my take on the segment.

First and foremost, here are the three rules they suggest wives use on their HUSBANDS. Please note this is in capital letters because yes, I am virtually yelling at you. The reason will be apparent in the next few sentences.

1. Ask for small request and favors.
Example: Honey? Can you please take out the trash that I have previously loaded up, compacted, and spritzed with a refreshing spray of Febreze for your packing out pleasure? I even put that 200 pound garbage can on the dolly so you wouldn't hurt your poor back.

2. Gradually move on to larger tasks.
Example: Honey? Now that I have made a complete 12 course dinner, including hand thrown dinner plates and blown glass mugs, can I pretty please ask you to load the dishwasher? I know honey, it's a lot to ask but do you think you could at least load up the silverware? Pretty please?

3. Give positive reinforcement.
Example: Babe! You did such an awesome job putting the cap back on the toothpaste! Tomorrow we'll work on the errant curly hairs in the tub. In the meanwhile, here's a new issue of "Babes-n-Bucks" and a frosty cold one to wet your thirst! Can I rub your feet since I bet you're exhausted from that twisting motion of replacing the cap!

Sure, I've used all the above steps in training MY CHILDREN. It works like a friggin' charm with three year olds. But for chriminy's sake, this is a MAN we're speaking about. Someone who has already been raised and should do things without the wife having to go through the childlike chain of three steps. Wives and moms do their crap everyday without any sort of encouragement. Why? Why do we plug on? Because no one else is gonna get it done. Thanks for compliments, but now get the hell outta my way - there is a house to be cleaned and dirty butts to be wiped!

Yes, I am a Wife-In-Chief and I wear the title well. Christmas, birthdays, and weddings just happen in my family. Banking decisions, daily menus, and shopping trips just happen in my family. New jackets, fresh boxes of Kleenexes, and computer paper just happen in my family. Do you get what I'm saying? I think most women are walking in the same pair of flip flops I'm rocking - we run the house so things happen. If we wait for the hubby to take care of business, well it's probably not gonna happen.

I know a marriage is based on teamwork - especially when children are introduced into the mix. And I agree when the three hags stressed that we should be able to relax in our relationships - burping, farting, and snot blowing is prevalent in my own household. However, when they follow up such comments with references to the hubby leaving the house for work and the wife staying home with the kids and household - I'm just not buying it. Folks, we're not in the 1950's anymore - most of us are upside down in bad mortgages and are struggling to make ends meet with both mom and dad working full-time jobs. Cheerleading should occur - but it should be a mutual relationship. It's not my job to by my hubby's mother - he has one and she does a fine job in that role.

In conclusion...my rant is almost over... I had to laugh when the biddies final comments included not approaching their hubbies when you're feeling "cranky or irritated." I'm sorry, but is there a day when a women isn't feeling like this? It's called life. Unless I have a ton of Valium and Xanax on board, with a bib to catch the and dripping drool, I can't put on a happy face to coach the Hubby into doing jobs he should be doing already - and without the promise of sexual favors and fresh baked cookies. In the words of Roseanne Barr, “Women complain about PMS, but I think of it as the only time of the month when I can be myself.”

If you're a man reading this posting, I'm sure you are a step ahead of most guys - for one thing, there is only one picture in those positing and that means you had to read a lot of words!! In all seriousness, I love men and I'm exaggerating their weaknesses in order to prove my point. My problem and gripe lies in shows like this which try to draw lines in relationships and make the women look and feel like a overbearing biotches. I'd love to see them do a show for men with a similar set of rules for their wives, but you know that's never gonna happen - the estrogen crew will keep on keepin' on, just like we always have.

Whoo! Rant over. Thanks for hangin' and readin'.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

"Cwistmas" is coming up fast and Gunny is glued to the J.C. Penney toy book that just came out. He's packing it everywhere just to make sure he has his toy list memorized. In case you didn't know -

My new breakfast, lunch and dinner:

My fever finally broke this morning so I'm hoping the hallucinations, voices, and lack of my ability to remember to pick up my children on a minimum day, diminish quickly. It's been a bad day - the kids gave me the silent treatment for my utter lack of disregard for their welfare - that was at least until I took them to McDonald's. All is well now and my sweating has slowed to a slow drip rather than a swollen Eel River. Blech.

Hope you're having a fabulous Wednesday. Mine has certainly been entertaining!

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

In case you missed it, here is the "Pot City, USA" television show recently shown on the A&E Network. It's pretty interesting and well worth your time to watch.

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

The things you see in the safety corridor...

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

* A re-post of last year with an additonal video. Enjoy! *

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Do yourself a favor and squeeze your bewbies. Early detection of breast cancer can save your life.

Just in case you need assistance with the exam:

And what if men had bewbies?

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my funday
My I don't have to runday
It's just another manic Monday

I've again been blindsided with a hectic schedule so pardon my ramblings and homage to the Bangles. In no particular order, here are some tidbits from weekend life. Feel free to add your own!

1. C-dub to me: "Mom? Did you hear that craziness Sissy is doin' with Gunny? She's givin' him a tattoo and he's got school tomorrow. He's just too young for dat sorta stuff!" At the ripe old age of seven, C-dub now considers himself old enough for tattoos. Good to know.

2. Taters to me on the topic of riding her bicycle with C-dub and Hubby to Round Table, "I kept looking for stuff that could kill us. I think I'm a worrier, Mom."

3. Gunny to me during his fiftieth visit to the toilet today, "Momma! I'm so comfusssed!!! I don't wanna take my poops swimmin' but I weally wanna new monstah twuck!"

4. Me to Hubby while at the Mall's bouncy place, "Hey hon (who was wisely shopping at Sear's while I watched four little crazy boys jump around like rabid kangaroos), can you please buy a pack of 4T undies? Yeah, I'm still checking to see if his schart was strong enough to produce a solid." Gag. Have I mentioned how much I hate potty training?

5. Gunny to Grandpa D, while packing around his sister's newest scary book, "Gwandpa! This book is %#*!$ scawey!" Eek! Oh no! Holy crap! Someone's gonna pay the cussin' jar and I'm sure it's not Gunny.

6. Me to my buddy, Jen, on the topic of my kids' school parking lot, "Do you know how many murders I've committed (in my brain) to those idiot driver parents? My blood pressure rises 20 points just pulling in!" The cool thing? Jen would totally agrees and would help me hide the bodies. I love that gal.

7. Hubby to the kids this morning on the subject of breakfast, "Yes, caramel apples are a great breakfast; fruit and milk. And no, don't tell Mom 'cuz she probably wouldn't agree."

8. Me to my buddy Sarah on the topic of new jeans, " Just order them! He'll (her hubs) thank you for it since you're saving so much money!"

9. Hubs to the four little partygoers celebrating C-dub's 7th birthday, "No. More. Quarters!"

10. Me to Hubs, discussing C-dub's bouncy party and dinner, "You want to take them to pizza before the bounce house? And who's gonna clean that up?" I love men.

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

Earlier this month, two of my most favorite people decided to make it legit and get shackled together in the neon flashing bonds of eternal bliss - they had a Vegas wedding. Aunt D married new Uncle S and we got a mini vacation outta the deal :-).

Here is the family including the happy couple while they were still virginal (ha!) and unmarried. We flew out of the Santa Rosa airport which is small and rather cheap - the tickets, not the planes!

When we got to Las Vegas, Aunt D's buddies had rented us a limo bus. It was rather awesome to ride in style and it took us right to the Las Vegas City Hall so Aunt D and Uncle S couldn't back out!

After we all got settle in, it was time for the Bachelorette party. To get things started in a healthy manner, we took a special exercise class that required us to wear special fitness clothes shoes. I picked pink and Aunt D's shoes were identical although red - kinda like a bad Dorothy ;-). It was a very fun class and I had weird bruises the following morning. 'Nuff said.

After the workout, we went to dinner and dragged Aunt D through numerous embarassing situations including wearing a special crown:

Dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly:

Sneering with Elvis:

And our group:

Aunt D was a great sport and we all managed to stumble back to our rooms by 2AM so that we would be refreshed for the big day.

I caught the bride to be on the day of her wedding:

And a quick glimpse of her beautiful dress:

The gals in our group drug her limp body to Sephora where we all got our make-up did pretty like (pardon the cellphone pic):

The wedding was at Planet Hollywood and it was beautiful. Here are some of my favorite shots. They made a beautiful couple:

After the wedding, we celebrated with a reception:

And then we broke out the Elvis glasses!:

And we cut some beautiful cake:

And I stole a hug from Aunt D. This was our prom date pose:

After the reception, we celebrated our last night in Vegas and I recorded it via Facebook much to Aunt D's dismay:

On the last day, I took some shots of the rings:

And those dang Elvis glasses snuck in the shot!:

Congrats Aunt D and Uncle S! We love you!

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I'm sure all five or so of you were probably a bit worried with my two week or so absence. I swear it was for good reason - I had some major liver regeneration occurring as well as some heinous work hours taking a bite out of my blogging time. Bastards.

Anyhoo, this is gonna be the first of a couple postings to bring you all up to date on the wonderful things I have packed into the month of September.

First off? I met Mr. Communicable Disease, Bret Micheals. I didn't actually meet-meet him, but I was well within a 100 yards and I swear at one point, he did look my direction. He was part of the Cheap Trick/Poison/Def Leppard concert we went to at the beginning of the month, in the Sleeptrain Amphitheater (Wheatland, CA). It was an outdoor venue and I absolutely loved it! The temperature was in the 80's and the $9 beers and $15 margaritas were icy cold. I don't suggest drinking prior to the concert unless you are ok with overflowing porta potties in the parking lot and drunk men who profess they weren't the ones who just urinated all over the seat you were about to hover above. Thank God I already had a cheap beer buzz or I may have been slightly grossed out by damp pant legs. Barf.

Here are some pics for your viewing enjoyment taking by my brother's girlfriend the lovely Miss H:

Here we are looking MILFish and pretending we're childless before the concert. Notice I'm the only one without a plastic mug. That's because I had already downed mine. I love adult Kool-Aid.

This was the huge gray POS bus we followed in loaded with drunk Joe Dirts':

And a close-up of one of their leaders:

And at the concert:

The concert was a blast and I highly recommend the Sleeptrain Amphitheater as a venue - at least during the summer. It was clean, the staff were friendly, and the sounds were awesome.

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I have two MAJOR thoughts for the day:

1. I can think of so many things I'd rather do for 12 years - go to school, run a business, slowly gain 500 pounds eating cheesecake and pizza - than be pregnant. But no, the fertile showoff, Michelle Duggar, would have us believe being pregnant with your 19th child, is such an awesome thing. Can you hear her poor uterus screaming from Arkansas? At least they are self-sufficient and raising their children without public assistance, but good grief they really need to find a new hobby.

2. Tomorrow night, I'm going to cheat on my husband if my new boyfriend will allow it:

I've got an extra pair of granny panties and my best Playtex Cross Your Heart, sitting out, waiting to be thrown at my man Bret. He's also bringing his buddies, Def Leppard and Cheap Trick, so if things don't work out between us, I'll have some additional options. I can't friggin' wait. My spandex is pressed, Aqua Net is full, and blue eyeshadow is ready to be applied.

BRING IT ON!

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Thousands of people descended onto Rohner Park yesterday, to drink a ton of beer, eat some good food, and share a handful of porta potties. If this isn't enough to entice you, how about the though of a super hot date with your own favorite erotic novelist, Jen at the Redneck Romance Writer? Thought so - sealed the deal for me :-). I know Jen will have her own version of our drunken stumble through the back field of Rohner Park, but here's my top 10 (in no particular order):

1. You have to work really hard to get drunk at Hops in the Park. I know this because Jen and I broke a sweat getting our beer sample and dashing to another long line to get the next sample. Combine long lanes and small glasses and you have drunk failure.

2. Do not breathe deep near the stage, under the tents, by the food booths, next to the beer serving, or adjacent to the porta potties. There was a ton of cigarette and pot smoking. Yuck. Why couldn't they restrict the cancer stick suckers and potheads to a smoking area rather than letting them intermingle with the rest of us?

3. I don't care what you say, but crab cheese puffs and teriyaki chicken sticks rock, after a good beer buzz.

4. Don't ask the drunk guy how bad the porta potty was. He's the one who just peed all over the floor and seat so his views will be a tad bit skewed. Porta potties give me severe anxiety. Thank God for Jen who talked me off the ledge and from finding a tree to relieve myself. She gave me the cleanest of the bunch and made sure I washed my hands. I think I'm in love :-).

5. It is insanely fun to make the sweet little man in the frozen banana booth, take pictures of you and your drunk buddy, doing inappropriate things with the banana he just sold to you. All the little fellow could mutter yesterday, hands trembling as he was squeezing the roller ball on my phone, "This is so dirty!" Yes, Jen and I are going to hell for that one.

6. The Moonshine Bandits rocked. Not so much for their music but because of this:

They graciously signed these two MILF's CDs, gave me a hug and then BAM! Jen makes one kiss ass comment about the drummer and he gives her his freakin' sticks! Can you tell I'm a tad bit jealous? And she wouldn't even share. I got to hold them on the way home but that was it. Here they are if you've never heard of them:

7. I found my next ride:

8. Friends come out with ingenious tricks when the beer buzz hits. My friend, J, quickly showed me how multi-talented she was:

Hands free drinking:

Temperature testing via a good lick:

9. Did I mention the beer? Cold beer, lots of different flavors and colors - good times. I'm still torked we missed out on the raspberry ale but there is always next year.

10. Ok Jen, this one's for you. Perhaps my house is not exactly 1/8 of a mile from the park - maybe not even 1/4 of a mile - but then again, my judgment was probably based on the way a crow flies since I'm a bird fan. However, you just can't create memories like stumbling home, fighting over drumsticks, and listening to my constant threats of finding a tree and having you be my lookout. Good times, lady! Good times!

Did you go to Hops? What did you think?

** Edited to add a link to Jen's hilarious version. **

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)

Hall-o-freakin'-luja! It's Friday! Here are my observations from the past week. Read'em and add your own:

1. I can't stand whistlers. Twice this week I picked a bathroom stall where the gal whistled throughout her business. It was disturbing and very hard for me to concentrate - maybe because I started humming along. It was a duo in the public bathroom.

2. A little turd called Taterbug a "mother effer." Her words to protect my eardrums, not mine. When asked what she did to provoke such a verbal lashing, she assured me that she hadn't done anything but couldn't be confident that her best friend didn't. She further quelled my anger by informing me that she went all "ghetto" on the guy, telling him not to talk back to her or call her names. She then completed her talk with a head bob and a hair flip. I'm so proud.

3. C-dub informed me he is becoming a teenager at the ripe old age of six. He found a pimple on his lip and now he's fearful of growing a mustache.

4. I took the kids on a hike at the rive rbar. When Taters insisted C-dub pack her rocks, he professed his dismay by whining that she was treating him like a "waiter." She laughed, I laughed, and he dropped her rocks.

5. I have OCD and it's recently been kicking in. I had to stop myself from pulling over to the side of the road to zip up a bum's backpack. He was walking with it wide open and it bothered me. ALOT.

6. I got my hair did. Back to blond I go a skippin'.

7. Saturday is Hops in the Park in Fortuna. I'm so excited to spend some girlfriend time at this event and partake amongst some adult beverlies.

8. I lost an entire tree's worth of peaches to the incontinent bastard bear who has been molesting my orchard on a nightly basis. He left me several piles of crap as a thank you gift. What an asshat. This is war.

9. I lost all my strawberries and tomato plants to the fat doe and her two teenager fawns. They were adorable when they were small but not so much now that the spots are gone. They ate all my plants even after my garlic and cat pee spray was applied. I guess they thought it was a specially made vinaigrette.

10. I think I need to stop gardening. Rather than less anxiety and stress of life - it's making it worse by causing me to evaluate which firearm might do the best job at taking my garden and orchard thieves out.

11. I've decided that I've had it when having to buy clothes. I feel too old for the Juniors section but the Misses section has too much lace and polyester. I need an in between section specially designed for self-proclaimed MILFS.

12. It's the final countdown to my Def Leppard and Poison concert. I think I'm gonna do Spandex for it's shapewear abilities. And the fact I'm five hours away from home and no one should know me. I hope.

13. I was informed this week we lost approximately $135K on the value of our home. If you happen to find, it, can you please mail it back to 123 Pissedoffatforeclosuresandshortsales Way, Anytown, CA.

14. My cats have been continuing their murderous spree in our yard. The other night was several disturbingly large crickets. Tonight was a shrieking mole that ran up inside my Dyson vacuum cleaner. Thank God hubby got it out. The thing doesn't get much usage so in reality, the mole coulda lived there for years without being noticed.

15. Have I mentioned that it's Friday? Have a fantabulous day and weekend!

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Because this is in my neck of the woods, I really paid attention to how this fiasco was going to end up. Nice job Fortuna Police Department and the other agencies who helped to save three lives today. These types of things never tend to have a happy ending but today they did. Great work!

Posted by Mommazilla at 12:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I need to borrow a ladder and a red sharpie. Good grief but thanks for the chuckle.

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I had the epiphany last night that Hubby and I are getting freakin' old. Maybe not an epiphany but at least a reminder since we've had quite a few of these moments lately, between the two of us.

After carefully finding and selecting an award winning babysitter to care for our spawn, and depositing the little heathens, we made our way down to Scotia to try out the new pub. We were aware there was a class reunion being held at the Scotia Inn but my inner recluse could not handle the amount of cars so we turned around and headed back towards the casino.

Dinner was great and it was nice eating at a pace not set by a rambunctious three year old. After dinner, we decided to donate to Bear River Casino so I headed to the penny slots while Hubby hit the tables. With my weak drink in hand, I placed myself in a chair next to a nicer looking older fellow who kinda resembled what Santa Claus might look like should he smoke and drink more than eggnog year round. I smiled politely and he smiled back, scooting his chair over to allow me more room. Cool, I thought to myself, at least he's not creepy.

I put my money in the machine and heard the man mumble something. I glanced at him and he commented that he hadn't had much luck but he liked the machine. I nodded in agreement, saying how fabulous I had heard his particular machine was. I then went back to my drink, slurping it down and trying to do the math in my head to place my bet. I had no flippin' clue if he was on a good machine or not but I certainly wasn't about to leave my Snow Globes - whom my BFF Sandruh swears by.

As I was finishing up my watery rum and contemplating how much further my twenty dollar bill would go, the Bad Santa next door struck up conversation:

Bad Santa: You know why I like this machine so much? It's the graphics. Look at this gal on here and listen to how she talks. She screamin' sex! And he winks at me.
Mommazilla: Yeah, you're right about that. Giving a sideways glance and avoiding eye contact.
Bad Santa: And look at these pirate fellers! Big muscles, sexy voices, and really gay! So much sex! He gives a hearty laugh and pokes at the screen with his nicotine stained finger.
Mommazilla: I had to look at that point - since he had peaked my interest. Wow! Those guys are great! Just like I like'm! I turned back to my machine hoping that would shut him up.
Bad Santa: He pauses and stares at me. Really? You like that?
Mommazilla: Uh huh (again not making eye contact). All women do. You must be playing a machine geared towards the ladies. But you seem to like it. I smile sweetly.

Bad Santa snorts at this point and mumbles something under his breath. About this time Hubby shows back up and takes his place next to me. Bad Santa stops the sexy talk and we leave a short time later, with him still at the machine. I later tell Hubby about our exchange and he agrees that Bad Santa was probably looking for a naughty elf for the night. Too bad I'm more like Mrs. Claus.

After the weirdness of the casino, we decided to go back to Scotia and crash the class reunion. It sounded so crazy - so adventurous - to crash someone elses' party. We were living on the wild side and I was ready - "Born to be wild" blaring through my head. As we pulled up, my Hubby instantly knew several of the drunken faces standing in the doorway. I did not so I made my way to the bar in order to make new friends. After about an hour and after having a new friend spill their drink down my back, we decided we were too old for the partying scene and left to return home.

We were home and in bed by 11:30PM. Childless, we almost immediately began snoring logs with the vision of sleeping in dancing through our heads. In a way, it sucks to be getting older and more mature. But then again, I won't be the one waking up with a sore liver and eye popping headache. Responsibility does have it's advantages.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

My brother pointed out to me the other day he's getting very irritated with my blog since I haven't really posted any snarky comments or stories he would find interesting. Well, since the Tip Top isn't one of my normal visited venues, I reminded him he just might want to find another more entertaining site to visit and to leave mine alone. However, shortly after this little verbal exchange, I had a situation occur that truly set off my Blogdar (blogging radar).

In order to protect the innocent, I'll be speaking in rather vague terms. However, if you have one quarter of a brain cell, I'm sure you'll figure things out. There is a certain fair coming up that I have placed several entries into. The day to drop the entries off recently came about and I promptly drove over to deliver my pieces. Upon arriving, I was met with a very long line of fellow art dropper-offers. As the line got progressively longer, it was soon clear that watching paint dry would be equivalent to the painstaking pace at which the fair employees moved.

As I stood there, allowing my eyes to cross and my mind to drift to far off Jamaican islands, I people watched and eavesdropped on the gals standing behind me. They were in their late fifties, both holding professional looking art portfolios, and obviously were well aware of their talents and thought the simpletons in line should be too. I listened to them chat with the woman who was standing ahead of me and I saw them roll their eyes at her questions and answer in such vague terms that I thought for a moment a swift kick to the uterus might help smooth things out. However, I maintained my mule kick and continued to listen as they made their introductions, taking their time to slowly pronounce their last names, ensuring we all knew the importance of their respective families. Heck, these gals even repeated their names, I'm sure to again awe inspire the masses waiting in line.

I can't handle people who live through their last name. You were born into a family - not chosen by a hiring committee who hand selects fetuses for their breeding stock. Just because you wear a certain name shouldn't automatically place you into a deserving bracket of society; you need to earn it. And for chriminy's sake, it's friggin' Humboldt County and no one outside this emerald triangle would probably even do a double take at your credentials. It' the hazard of a small town; it sometimes creates small minds.

*Stepping off of soapbox.*

While my patience bubbled and festered over, listening to the biddies, I begged the gals at the counter for permission to set my insanely heavily framed prints down at a far off table. When they happily obliged my request, I dumped them quick and began throwing elbows in order to return to my given place in line. The biddies were still yacking and then I heard one snort and mumble under her breath, "Well! I never stack my pictures." You really need to insert an uppity, Mrs. Howell sorta voice here in order to get the full effect of how it sounded.

I casually looked back at her and smiled, sending her eye death rays and wishes her prints would warp in their wrapper. It wasn't like she said some profound statement regarding world peace - it was how how she said it, so completely judgmental and rude. I've heard horror stories about some photographers being absolute twits to other photographers but this was the first I had yet to experience it. I am so thankful when I see other people with my interest in photography - I seriously want to take them home and start a compound - minus the communal sleeping arrangements and weird ceremonies.

I continued to maintain my silence until I was finally checked in and prints handed off (unscathed I might mention). While signing off my paperwork, I looked over to see what the biddies were entering and had so ever carefully protected with their fancy packaging and vile words. As they slowly and dramatically unsheathed their work, I had to use hands as a deflective shield for my eyes due to the spotlight showering down on them. While the pictures weren't bad, they certainly weren't what I thought they were going to be. And before you even say anything, yes, I already had a bias based on the 'tudes they were portraying. It was absolutely against my very womanly nature to even enjoy their prints even a minuscule. Shallow? Yes. Pissy? Most definitely. Did it make me feel better? Heck yeah! But I'm not above a little competition and I look forward to hopefully kicking some butt - but that's outta my hands and the wrinkly hands of the biddies.

Who knew an amateur photo competition could be so fierce ;-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I just realized that I never posted any pictures from Fortuna's Rodeo Parade. I haven't been in a long time so this year, I made it a point to go and take the kiddos. Rather than giving you any running commentary regarding men with sheep mullets, phallic floats, and Fortuna ladies of the night, I'll let you take a gander at what I saw:

One suggestion to the float creaters and candy passer outers - bypass the hard candies. Gunny was utterly fed up each time he picked up a shatter Lifesaver and all I heard was, "Oh gweat. Not again!" Give my poor kid a break and throw out some squishy stuff.

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Last weekend, Hubby and I packed up the 'ol Winnebago and took our brood out to A.W.Way Park, located in the beautiful town of Petrolia in the Mattole River Valley. I must tell you that I am in love with this area and truly believe it's one of the best places on Earth to visit. It's located about a little over an hour out of Ferndale (depending on which way you go and how familiar you are with the road) and about 20 minutes away from the gorgeous Lost Coast and Pacific ocean. The road is a little sphincter puckering in portions and you may have to occasionally share your lane of travel with a mad heifer or crazy sheep - but it's entirely worth it.

My family decided to take a break from constant swimming and s'more making, to take a hike out out to Punta Gorda. This gorgeous lighthouse was deactivated back in 1951, but still stands today as a reminder of it's hard work keeping sailors and boats safe off of Windy Point.

Punta Gorda was was originally nicknamed the "Alcatraz" of lighthouses, due to it's rustic location and difficult surroundings. I would have to say I totally I agree with this analogy because it's not at all easy to get to. You can access the lighthouse by following the Lost Coast Trail or by accessing BLM property and taking the "short" cut. You need a four wheel drive and the rough gravel road takes you over the tops of windy ridges and through some very beautiful, yet terrifyingly steep scenery. Can you tell I'm just a tad bit of an Acrophobiac? To access either way, you'll need to turn onto Lighthouse Road, just outside of Petrolia.

Here is the "short cut" down to the beach:

Taters kept stopping to admire the various plants and rocks strewn about the trail. I had to reminder her to keep moving so that I could keep my lunch down. Between the heights and bumpy road, my stomach was a tad bit unhappy.

As you can tell from the pics, it was very foggy that day, which is common for this location. The nice thing though, was that the wind was very minimal which is also a rarity for the Lost Coast. It made for a very comfortable hike.

Once you get to the beach, this is what you'll find:

People actually live in the above two cabins. From what I heard, they park at the top of the point and take the same trail we had traversed to access their home. I think I'd seriously consider a helicopter or some sort of Star Trek Transporter if I lived here. I couldn't handle that walk every day although you'd be guaranteed buns of steel after just a week or so.

Further along the beach, you'll find great tide pooling, seals, sea otters, and a plethora of cool rocks and shells. We made sure to keep our distance from the seals as many of them appeared to be angry or pregnant mommas, not too keen with us trekking through their home. We were super excited to see what appeared to be a baby sea otter scampering up the beach. It quickly hid itself under driftwood, and we kept walking to avoid ankle bites from momma.

Our buddies, Miss K and Miss M loved the tidepooling:

As you get farther down the beach, you'll want to hop up on the Lost Coast Trail so you can see this:

The lighthouse is in really good shape. The kids certainly loved exploring it and took turns climbing the ladder to the top in order to see the amazing views:

It's a tight fit at the top of the ladder and if you're not a size 5 or negative A cup, it's kind of a challenge to wedge yourself into the tiny opening. I'm not sure why I'm sharing this fact with you, other than Miss K and I had an interesting conversation with our hubbies about it. I know, TMI, Sandi, TMI.

After exploring the lighthouse and surrounding cement pads, we took a couple of family shots and made our way back:

Our buddies:

And us:

I didn't take any pics of us walking back because I was breathing so hard that I fogged up my lens and sunglasses. What was a rather quick jaunt down, was a long-ass walk back. I stopped numerous times to "check the children," even though they were way ahead of me. I gotta get my butt into better shape or seriously look into that Transporter.

What fun things are you doing this summer?

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Sorry guys, but this one is for the ladies...special thanks to my friend, Carolyn, for sharing it with me.

Words For Women To Live By...

1. Aspire to be Barbie - the bitch has everything.

2. If the shoe fits - buy them in every color.

3. Take life with a pinch of salt... A wedge of lime, and a shot of tequila.

4. In need of a support group? - Cocktail hour with the girls!

5. Go on the 30 day diet. (I'm on it and so far I've lost 15 days).

6. When life gets you down - just put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

7. Let your greatest fear be that there is no PMS and this is just your personality.

8. I know I'm in my own little world, but it's ok. They know me here.

9. Lead me not into temptation, I can find it myself.

10. Don't get your knickers in a knot; it solves nothing and makes you walk funny.

11. When life gives you lemons in 2009 - turn it into lemonade then mix it with vodka.

12. Remember where ever there is a good looking; sweet, single or married man there is some woman tired of his bullschat!

13. Keep your chin up, only the first 40 years of parenthood are the hardest.

14. If it has Tires or Testicles it's gonna give you trouble.

15. By the time a women realizes her mother was right, she has a daughter who thinks she's wrong.

'Good friends are like stars.........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there' 'Remember yesterday, dream about tomorrow, but live for today'. Now smile and send to any girl wasting time at work, suffering from a hangover, or just suffering from life , that might need a reason to smile!

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

God bless America. Thank you to all those who serve or have served, and prayers to those who have protected us by making the ultimate sacrifice.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I shot my first wedding over the weekend and I'm happy to report that I lived through the experience. It was a small, intimate event, which made it a little less overwhelming for me as a brand spankin' new photographer. I did realize I'll never quit my day job and I'll leave big events, such as weddings, to the people who can dedicate the proper amount of time required.

I remember back in the day, paying my photographer a little over $600 for engagements shots and a wedding album. I seriously cried having to write that check not understanding why on Earth, simple pictures could cost so much. I'm now painfully aware of the value I actually received. Sure, your photographer spends all day at your wedding, but in reality, this is only a small part of the process. He or she still has to edit, package and prepare all of your gorgeous shots.

For the four hours I was there, I took over 400 pictures. I now have to go through each one, editing the good and tossing out the bad. I may have to take things out and add things in...it's quite the adventure. Just estimating, I've spent probably over 10 hours (editing) over the past two days and I'm only 1/3 of the way into the process. I'm not complaining because I do love this. Seeing what I can turn my photos into is just a neat thing to go through and I look forward to it. Does it get tedious? Heck yeah! A little boring? Some times! Would I wanna do another wedding? No thanks!

So, in the end, I've learned some of my strengths and weaknesses all through a very humbling process. I hope the bride and groom will be happy with their pictures because so far, I'm proud of myself for the job I did. I went outside my comfort level and discovered it wasn't so bad. Would I do it again? Maybe, but it's gonna a be awhile. Hubby misses having a laptop computerless wife laying next to him at night :-).

Want to see more of the pics? Visit my photo blog, Pixel Queen Photography.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Eleven years ago, this guy:

and this girl:

met up with a bunch of their friends and family:

and did this:

Happy anniversary babe! Here's to another 11 years, three more kids, a couple more cats, a new dog and a handful more chickens. I love ya - thanks for putting up with me :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Day two of Camp Valium actually happened last Friday, but with the excitement of several graduations, school getting out, and a case of procrastination, this post was put on the back burner. Sorry 'bout that.

On day two, I woke up to my daughter's morning breath beating down on my face from within my sleeping bag. After feeling a bit homesick (me, not her) we had both stuffed our bodies into one sleeping bag like a badly encased sausage.

"Mom? Mommy? Maaaa-oooommmm! You gotta get up and make breakfast. You signed up for it, remember?"

What seemed like a great idea a month ago, was not so peachy at 7AM on a Friday morning. After putting my hair up into a sloppy bun and slapping on my favorite sweatshirt to hide what I wasn't wearing, I stumbled out of the tent into the light of day. Thankfully, Mrs. P and her other more responsible camp helpers, already had the coffee brewing and they quickly supplied me with a cup.

After three cups of Joe, I helped to whip out a huge batch of pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. It was a great way to start the day and the kids really seemed to enjoy breakfast:

After breakfast, the other parents and I participated in kid torture by making them do the dishes. Sure, enough soap was left on the plates to guarantee it's next user the runs, but it was all about the learning process:

You can tell it wasn't such a torturous process since they seem to be smiling way too much.

The kids also had a special visitor that morning in the form of their principal. It's always a welcome sight to see your principal sans the confines of his office and for a good reason. So much better than when you have to, such as when an errant spit ball goes off it's intended path and hits the wrong person. Or window. 'Nuff said.

After breakfast, I heard the familiar sounds of a certain diesel pickup (the T-Ruck 250 as my boys would call it) and realized that Hubby had also come out to join the fun. He quietly called me over and I instantly became worried. We have no cell phone service at the camp and this lack of outside contact made me a bit concerned. He said nothing to me as I walked towards his pick-up, even though I pushed and prodded with incessant yelled questioning.

By the time I got to his door, I was really started to get PO'ed from his question answering failure and I was increasingly worried he was going to tell me we had won the lottery but he had spent all of our money on hunting gear and Slim Jim stock. Crazy, I know, but a day and a half in the woods will bring the Brittney Spears outta ya.

My fears were immediately soothed as soon as the smell of a venti sized, non-fat white mocha with a hint of caramel, crept out of the open cab. I lunged for the cup, already high on the camp coffee, and immediately began chugging it like a todder with her favorite Starbucks sippy cup.

"I didn't want to cause a camp mob, babe." was his explanation for the silence I had endured. It was worth it as I gulped the liquid gold down and watched out of the corner of my eye for any parents wishing to attack me for my caffeine high. Seeing none, I languished in the golden glow of mocha goodness and professed to Hubby that he was the greatest man EVER.

After our secret rendezvous, I rejoined camp and we headed back down to the river to identify creepy crawly things and "accidentally" fall into the river...again:

Once the bugs were caught, released and sufficiently analyzed, we returned to camp for a ritual sacrifice:

KIDDING!!!! But how else would you describe that picture?! Gunny enjoyed it ;-).

We actually returned to camp to break down tents and participate in one last event: owl barf. I'm sure there is a technical name for it, oh something like regurgatatus discugustinous, but I think my name provides a sufficient description. The parent running the table said that the owl pellets we were dissecting were actually similar to if an owl had fur balls and then spit them up (like a cat would do). I dunno but the last time I checked, my cat's furballs didn't have this poking out of it:

Nor did it look like it had thrown up a kitten:

One of students couldn't find a fresh owl pellet. He hunted and searched and finally found one...in the BBQ:

He was really disappointed when he didn't find any mouse bones in it after feverishly working for 15 minutes to cut it apart. Word...briquettes are hard.

After a thorough hand washing, Gunny mowed the campground while I helped to prepare lunch:

Lunch was easy - sandwiches, chips, and fresh fruit:

As I cut up the watermelon, I heard several of the parents reminiscing about the days of BBQ's with watermelon soaked in adult beverages. Of course, I immediately had a flashback of a sorority toga party and our own special fruit salad soaked in a highly potent adult beverage. You know, back in the day when drinking out of a bathtub placed in the middle of the yard, was considered to be normal. But alas, our watermelon was rated "G" and the memories had to stay what they were. Which is good since I'm sure the statute of limitations may not be up on some of those parental confessions....KIDDING!

After all was said and done, every piece of trash picked up, and each kid located and secured in a vehicle, we parted ways and headed back into town. I think Mrs. P was ready to go home because we found her like this, obviously physically and emotionally exhausted:

She was actually "it" in a wild game of Hide-n-Seek. At least that's the story she fed to us parents.

Taters flicked me a bit of 'tude about not wanting to go home yet as she has a lot of anxiety about long car rides. In fact, we call our car the vomit comet on long trips due to her queasy stomach. I struck a deal with her, allowing her to have the shower first if she would just take a nap on the way home allowing mommy to drive fast and take chances. She was out within five minutes of listening to the Jonas Brothers on the I-pod and I was home within record breaking time.

I'd like to say a big THANK YOU to Mrs. P and all the parents who went with us on this fun camping trip. It was not nearly as painful as I thought it would be and I actually had a great time. Mrs. P, you're an awesome teacher and made Taterbug's third grade year a total success. Thanks!!!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I used to love "Saved By The Bell." If you're lame like me, you will certainly love this video:

On a side note, I'm still trying to finish up part deux of my Camp Valium experience. Stay tuned...

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I actually had a super duper time with my rugrat and her 3rd grade buddies on our camping trip. The class left ahead of me on Thursday morning due to the fact I had just worked a graveyard shift and did not feel as though I would have the patience or stamina to put up with other people or the light of day for that matter. After a quick three hour siesta, and uploading several new tunes to my I-Pod, I drove my car like it was stolen, making my way out the vomit inducing HWY 36. The weather was fairly overcast and cloudy, with the occasional little downpour - rather crappy things to deal with as a tent camper. I packed light - forgoing my make-up and hair supplies - as I thought my homely appearance might look foreboding to any bears stumbling into camp or little boys trying to take a peak into the girl's tent.

Once I got to camp (Grizzly Creek State Park, or as I like to call it, Camp Valium), I met up with the little heathens and a handful of parents. They were just starting a delicious sack lunch as I waddled up with my Whopper and fries. Taters practically attacked me for the remnants of my lunch as Hubby evidently let her pack her own lunch to the tune of raspberry Poptarts and Cheetos. As I let her take hidden swigs off my Pepsi (yes, I know I'll win Mother of the Year for that one), lunch slowly ended and the fun began. Please note that this would be my last caffeinated beverage for the day.

Here's Tater's chipmunk cheeks as she frantically stuffed cold fries into her beak:

We started off with four different activities involving teams of children and parents. I had previously decided to warp the minds of today's youth and had signed up for a team leader position. Any sort of control I can get is a good thing; I feed on the power. My swollen head demanded my group members call me "Ma'am" and salute me as necessary. I cried when they laughed.

Our first event included learning how to use a compass. I, for one, suck at directions. If I don't know where the ocean is placed, I have no clue where I'm at. I love GPS and believe strongly that God invented it for stupid people like me. Thankfully, the kids in my group were way smarter than me and seemed to have no trouble figuring out the little plastic compass. Mr. P was super patient with us and the kids seemed to really enjoy it:

The kids even found a treasure chest full of goodies at the end of the route. I freely admit that I cheated and followed Taters, but I pulled rank to get the candy:

The next event for us was the Visitor's Center. It was hit and miss for a few; I really had to defend the kids and adults in my group. I threw down with this guy:

Had a slap boxing fight with this gal:

And then these two morons tried to get sassy with me and I ended up with a beautiful bear rug and matching sofa throw:

I tell ya, we barely made it outta there alive. It was a crazy moment, as you can tell by the camera shake and slight blurriness. It was my adrenaline kicking in - trying to escape from the various paws of death.

Although I was exhausted from the animal hunt and whoop ass fight, we ventured onto our third activity which was the nature hike. I like to imagine that I'm in good shape. Heck, I like to imagine that Brad Pitt and George Clooney are at home waiting for me each night, ready to pamper my aching body after a long day. Let's just say I have a really good imagination - an evil side of me which quickly made me realize there was no way in heck I could keep up with four nine year olds on an uphill hike. The little turkeys ran the hike while I panted, puffed, and looked for soft places to lie down in. We did lots of "stopping and looking for wild animals." In other words, sit your butt down so Tater's mommy won't die.

Our final event was the shirt making and cooking station. The kids took a navy blue shirt and lined up various nature goodies on the shirt. Once they were happy with the layout, they sprayed it with a bleach solution and made some pretty cool shirts:

Once the kids were sparkly clean, we helped to prepare a dinner of tacos, which, after that fight and hike, were a welcome sight. Notice I have no pictures of this part. That's because my hands were full of food rather than my baby, Canon 50d.

Prior to dinner, we took the kids down to the river bar. It was beautiful, but cold:

The water is about -10 degrees currently, but when you're a third grader, evidently hypothermia is just a myth:

After the kids turned a healthy shade of blue, we brought them back up to camp to have dinner. Again, no pics here because I was too busy stuffing my face. After dinner, we made our way to a little gathering spot for some spooky stories, singing and s'mores. One of my buddies suggested that this would be the perfect time to calm the children by slipping them some Valium in their marshmallows. Surprisingly enough, the thought never even crossed my mind although I did think some margaritas with dinner would have been fabulous. And a Hot Toddy with my s'more might have been to die for, but I kept it legit with a container of low fat milk. Blech.

Prior to the main program starting, Taters decided to utilize her summer drama camp and act out a play with her buddy called, "Family Drama." I quietly choked when she announced the name, hoping that she wouldn't be giving up any family secrets. No secrets were given, but a lot of screaming, giggling, and pushing each other down was had by her and her buddies.

Thank God for Trina. She is a plethora of positive energy and goofy songs. She save us by getting up and leading everyone in a bunch of fun songs and crazy dances:

Finally, it was bedtime. I had three little girls and Mrs. P (the world's best third grade teacher, hands down) in my tent, so there was quite a bit of giggling. Since I was already sleep deprived, I immediately zonked out and left Mrs. P to fend for herself with the incessant giggling and shooshing. The girls slept well until about 5AM when a mass exodus for the bathroom occurred and I was woken out a sound sleep to make the mile long walk to the bathroom. Who knew at this time of morning little girls could still be so noisy and giggly? They never simmer down. Was I like that? I hardly think so - just don't ask my mom or you may get a different answer. One I might not like too much!

Stay tuned for tomorrows exciting finish to day two of Camp Valium.

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

In an effort to spend some more mother-daughter bonding time, I volunteered to chaperon Tater's 3rd grade camping trip. We leave tomorrow morning and come back Friday afternoon, so it's really not going to be that long of a jaunt. Thank GAWD. It will be just long enough for me to down a bottle of Valium chased by a pint of JD - all the while throwing my back out while sleeping on rocks in a smelly tent.

KIDDING.

I'm actually looking forward to it even though I typically find kids at this age pretty damn annoying. I love my Taterbug but the little boys at this age tend to find farting, nose picking, and a variety of body odor smells, quite charming, and are more than willing to share these nasty little things with you, the innocent viewer. Little girls, on the other hand, while sweet smelling and cute, tend to be a tad bit nasty at this age with cliques and gossip. I always thought they turned into snots when they hit high school, but evidently that's not the case and evolution has brought about bitchiness to grammar school.

It's gonna be fun.

In the meanwhile, I will leave you with some videos to entertain. All I ask is that you say a silent prayer for my safe return and the preservation of my sanity.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

For those of you who had to go through the Barney fetish - complete with annoying songs, videos, and dolls - theis video is for you!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

For the past three years, I've been telling my friends and family about the tattoo I'd get one day. I've spoken to different friends, researched a variety of shops and then sat on the information while my confidence slowly grew. For me, a tattoo had to be of some significance and not some drunken piece of artwork I'd have forever as a memory on a body part.

When I mentioned the idea of a tattoo around my family members, I received nothing but, "you're gonna do what to what?" and "you wanna be the 90 year old woman with ink?" I finally stopped saying anything realizing I'd receive no support. I think it may be a generational thing because it seems like so many more people have tattoos now-a-days and it's really not the abnormal thing to do. I think tattoo artistry is beautiful and when done with symbolism and talent, it can truly be an asset to one's personal well being. With that said, Dad - am I convincing you yet?

Taterbug was one of my biggest opponents, sharing with me a story that came out of a recent Costco shopping trip she and I had shared. She explained to me how she had been watching an elderly couple shopping together. On the old man's arm was a large tattooed heart with the name, "Shirley" inked into it. It had some words that included, "Forever Wife," around the top portion, and a cupid's arrow completing the scene. Taterbug explained how she had heard the man call the woman he was with, "Paula" and how he had made reference to her being his (now) wife.

She explained it to me this way:

Mom, you don't wanna be a Shirley. Tattoos are like, FOREVER.

Much to Taterbug's dismay, I decided last week to suck it up and actually venture into the tattoo studio and speak with the artist. Once I got past the piercing selections (you would not believe where you can be pierced - I was blushing - which takes a lot), skulls, heavy metal and dark lighting, I actually felt pretty comfortable and confident that I was making the right decision. Within the next two hours, my tattoo was complete and I was thrilled:

The significance of the butterflies (to me) is rebirth and the start of a new life which I recently did on several levels. The largest of the butterflies contains both my Hubby's and my birthstone colors. Descending from the top butterfly is a butterfly representing each of my kiddo's birthstone color (from oldest to youngest). I plan on getting a few more, but will wait until I have just the perfect idea and meaning. Plus, I need to decided what other part of the body will be least effected by old age and stretch marks.

As a side note, if you're debating getting a tattoo because of the pain, trust me that it's really not that bad. I'm not gonna lie and tell you that it feels like a walk in the park, but it's not that terrible - irritating but tolerable. It's an extremely personal thing between you and a good artist, and when done with the right reasons in mind, can be a great experience.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I was totally surprised to read about our Kinetic Sculpture Race making Perez's site. Here's a link to the article. Too cool!

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

You like that title? How about that smell? It's exactly what I smelled like - actually reeked like - the other day after valiantly trying to defend my new squash plants from the four heathens who have taken over my yard:

I bought this magic elixir that promised to not only scoot the deer out of my yard but to keep the bunny rabbits at bay as well. After a quick spray of the goop, I about barfed not realizing how terrible it would smell. As I squirted, gagged, and sprayed some more, I attempted to stand up wind in an attempt to avoid smelling like a an old school pizza joint's urinal.

I thought I had been successful with dodging the funk until I walked into my house and began to scream at my cats for releasing their bodily juices on my carpet. As I reached down to check behind the couch for a suspicious yellow puddle, I caught wind of my sweater and realized I was actually the odoriferous offender. It was so bad that I had to strip down to my skivvies and start a load of laundry right then and there. It took quite a bit longer to actually get the funk out of my hair, which I had to keep back in a ponytail so that it wasn't a constant friendly reminder of my garden.

Barf. I hope I at least get a couple of zucchini out of all of this.

Hubby and I did a frantic gardening session last weekend, firing up the rototiller and weeding several planter beds. We rushed to get our plants in after getting a super late start due to the rats with wings thwarting my initial tries at planting seeds and raising a garden from scratch. Thankfully, I was able to find some healthy plants from Charlie's Blossoms (thanks to Kristabel - great meeting you!).

And yes Zeke, I see you. Quit molesting the fresh dirt in my yard:

During our process of gardening, I received a lot of advice as to how to keep the heathens out of our garden. Someone suggested that I go to a barber and ask for his leftover hair clippings. Evidently the deer are not so keen with the smell of old man hair but in actuality, neither am I. Even if I would have gotten the hair, I know for sure it would have sat in my garage forever - like Cousin It in a bag. I probably would have avoided using my garage all together. I know I thwarted a catastrophe by not picking up that fur.

Another suggestion we received was to put a hot wire (electric fence) around the garden. The only problem is with three curious kiddos and three rambunctious puppy dogs, someone was sure to get hurt. Plus, I could only imagine my boys taking a test run at putting a variety of things on the fence to see what would happen. I speak from experience and can probably name about 20 different things that conduct electricity rather well. Juicy plums, for example, will give you an especially nice, exquisite zap. I can still remember the muscles seizing in my right arm and the weird feeling I had the rest of the day, after my brother and I conducted our own series of electrical tests.

The last idea someone mentioned was to pee around the area of our garden. I thought this would be the most organic of our choices and after feeding Hubby several Budweiser beers throughout the day, I figured he may be able to do one, if not two laps around the entire garden, perhaps even stopping to write his name for good measure. But, like the hair, I knew I would never be able to till that soil again, knowing it had been defiled by a willing urinator. Even though I bypassed the liquid gold idea, I did keep feeding him hops and barley nourishment because I quickly found that a tipsy Hubby was more motivated to make my planter box as big as I wanted it rather than the dismal size he had initially mentioned. I am a master manipulator - bwahahahaha!

Looking back now, I'm wondering if I should have just went the hair, hot wire, or urine route since the bottled up liquid Hell I bought seems to be as disgusting (and way more expensive) than the rest. Do you have any suggestions? How do you keep the deer out of your garden?

Posted by Mommazilla at 11:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

When I was in 7th grade, my life revolved around our local skating rink. Every Friday, and sometimes Saturday night, my mom would haul my brother and I down to our local rink to have a few hours of fun times and new relationships. That's right, I said relationships. At the ripe 'ol age of 12, the only way for a boy crazy girl to find new meat was to hit the rink. My friends and I would scout out local boys from other schools and come home with a new boyfriend each week. I "dated" boys from all over the Eel Valley area; sometimes even twice if the pickins' were slim.

I guess I should explain to you the concept of my "dating" so as you do not think my behavior resembles that of a garden tool. Back in the days, dating meant you took the obligatory spin around the skating rink during the couple's dance. The new lovebirds would skate in endless circles, holding sweaty hands to the beat of "Purple Rain" or "Without You." The lights would be down and the strobe lighting a strobin'; It was amazing.

Throughout the school week, numerous phone calls would be exchanged, perhaps even a couple of pieces of snail mail with some pictures enclosed, and then by Friday, drama would ensue and the young love would be terminated....all in time for a new relationship to blossom. This was my form of "dating."

At this particular skating rink, there used to be a couple older boys, actually "men," who had the skills. They were the king of rink and all the girls would do their best to get their attention. Whether it be to feigning poor skating skills to wearing the tightest Bongo jeans your prepubescent body could fit into; it was all done for their benefit - even if they didn't really seem to notice. I remember lathering on as much "Tranquil Moments" as physically possible and then making my hair stand at an amazing height with a can of Aqua Net only to attract a pimply 12 year old's attention rather than the "men" of the skating rink. Rejection seemed to be a bit easier to swallow with the help of a boy who told you how "rad" he thought you were.

It seems like just yesterday, standing awkwardly with my girlfriends and plotting evil against the girls who managed to get a couples skate with these handsome rico suaves. We'd cross our fingers the skanky broads would wipe out or even better, chip a tooth on a railing, because in all fairness these hotties were our property and eye candy, not to be had by these two bit floozies. Clicking our retainers and braced marked teeth in disgust, we'd always go home promising each other to come back the following week and finally get the well deserved attention of our men. *sigh*

Flash forward to current date and time...One of the best things about a small town is that the people you knew as a child will sometimes stick around to remind you of your fun and albeit, embarrassing times. One such example can be found at my daughter's school where they hired several new teachers at the beginning of last school year. As karma would have it, one of the new teachers happened to be one of the "men" I used to fawn over at the skating rink. In fact, he was the one my little girl group was absolutely in love with and probably made the biggest fuss about. The first time I was in a room with him, I was instantly embarrassed - hoping to GAWD that marriage, three kids, and a hair color change would hide the rosy red cheeks of adolescence.

I recently told Taters about my lost "love" and my skating rink adventures. Her reply?

"Wow Mom. I can't even imagine Mr. Hottie skating around with a huge afro and those funny looking bell bottom pants. That woulda been hilarious!"

Yikes. After a quick reminder that dear old mom was only 33 she still looked at me in shock.

"Really? I was thinkin' for sure it was like 1970 or something. It's still really funny Mom. And weird. You were crushin' on a teacher!"

It's kinda funny how fate and past actions can suddenly appear to bitch slap you in the face with a dose of embarrassing reality. We all have these moments so what are yours'? Has history caught up with you yet to provide any uncomfortable, "yes that was me," moments?

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Be prepared, stamp prices are going up again starting Monday, May 11th, 2009. Rather than $.42 a stamp, they will go up to $.44 a stamp. This just torks me since I recently bought two sheets of stamps and will now have to buy some penny stamps. At $.44 a stamp, and with no guarantee that your item will get to it's intended spot, I think I'll stick to e-mails and online bill paying. At least that's free...for the time being.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I'm thinking I'm having one of those days when I just need to grab the purr buckets, crawl back into bed, and place the kitty flannel sheets firmly over the top of my head. My morning started off alright until I heard my coffee pot quit brewing mid-flow. Thinking that maybe it was just too gunked up with nasty semi-filtered well water, I washed it inside and out. Evidently, my dish soap is better than I thought because I'm sitting here practically blowing bubbles due to a strange film on the inside of my coffee cup. Yes, I brewed soapy coffee. I've never proclaimed genius status.

Other than the coffee fiasco, things haven't been too bad. I have been chasing Gunny around the house this morning, going from mess to mess. He found out that a fully loaded Capri-Sun makes for an excellent cat blaster. Now my kitties are wet and sticky and he's having a time out. He also re-dumped out his raisins (you know the same ones already covered with cat hair and other unknown ickiness) and made a dirt ramp with salt-n-vinegar chips.

Just a visual reminder from last week:

On the topic of Gunny, I took him to Eureka yesterday to make my bi-annual trip to Tarjayyy (that's Target for you less sophisticated folks). Things were fine there although I was disappointed in that I really didn't find anything I need other than some Bob the Builder DVDs that somehow made it into my cart.

After Target, we hit Costco so that I could get some bottled water sans the grime our water naturally contains. While there, Gunny sat in the main part of the cart so that he could play "MONSTAH JAMZZ!!!" with his Hotwheels and monster trucks. During an exceptionally wild session of car crashing, I saw Gunny adjusting his "junk." Reminding him that more than two shakes equates that you're playing with it, he stopped for a moment and I looked away to check out the liquor deals. Isn't it ironic that tragedy strikes while Momma is looking for a way out?

I heard Gunny say, "Momma, I peed my pants. Weally I did."

I started to argue since I knew I had placed a fresh diaper on his little laundered butt prior to leaving for Eureka. Then I looked down at his pants and saw a huge wet spot covering his thigh and crotch area. Doing the Mommy thing, I reached down to check the visual evidence and found it warm to the touch. During his "playtime" he had managed to work his little leapin' lizard out the side of his diaper and then pee. Why? Why would he do this you ask? Because he's a little boy and his name is Gunny. And he knew Mommy really wanted to go to Ritz Camera before going home but that she didn't bother to pack any extra clothes.

Anyhoo, needless to say I didn't have any additional clothing other than a clean diaper. But he didn't even need that since the pee bypassed the diaper. It was quite the traumatic experience...for me, not him.

Now, as Gunny is up from his 15th time-out this morning, we're watching the morning news and he's explaining to me that everyone has butts and everyone poops. I agree with him and remind him that most people do it in a TOILET. He smiles at this but doesn't agree. Shocking. He then asks to see my "butt cwack" and I tell him no. He offers to show me his and I again say, no thanks. Trying to explain about private parts and modesty to a three year old is exasperating but comical.

It's going to be a long day. Is five o'clock somewhere yet?

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (10)

For obvious reasons...

I may have lost my sense of humor, but these commercials ANNOY the HECK out of me. What do you think?

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Do you know that it's almost been a year since my dad was misdiagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer? It's hard to believe that at almost this time (last June), we were in a constant state of grief - tears, frustration, and anger ruled most of my family's lives. It was such a rough time for our family but certainly made all of us face our fears and grow much closer.

Since his misdiagnosis, he's been doing great. His body has slowly healed and he's become more like the dad and grandpa we're accustomed to. The type of awesome dad that shows up in the middle of the day to mow your lawn or prune your fruit trees - just because he's bored and he knows you don't have time to do it.

Gunny and my dad have always been close due to the fact that my dad was Gunny's primary caregiver since he was eight weeks old. Gunny reminds me a lot of my dad as he likes to tinker with everything and they each have a nasty little temper when they get frustrated. However, I truly doubt that my dad stomps off pouting, yelling that he "gives up!" with arms folded across his chest and a loud "Hmph!" to end the fit. Then again, I haven't seen my dad angry in awhile so things might have changed. Just kidding, Pops :-).

Dad stopped by to visit today, driving his old Willy's jeep. Gunny is absolutely in love with "Gwampa's Jweep." He's calls it "Gwampa's car cwusher" and gets so excited when Dad pulls into the driveway. He loves to sit and "drive" it for as long as Grandpa will allow - which is pretty much until Gunny gets bored and wants a popsicle.

Gunny had another driving session today and I snapped a few pics while he pretended to "car cwush" everything in his path. He first put on his driving glasses in order to look much cooler as a monstah twuck car cwushin' dwiver:

He then took to the wheel and let the mayhem begin!

He only stopped for a moment to ponder:

To ponder how much more he needed to grow in order to reach the pedals. Oh! I think he's figured it out!

You have to be "dis much" taller:

With the mystery of his height to pedal ratio solved, Grandpa took his jeep and lawn mower back home, while Gunny bid a fond farewell. It was a great way to spend the afternoon.

What did you do to enjoy your sunny day?

Posted by Mommazilla at 06:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I don't know if you've noticed lately, but Popeye's Chicken has been playing an exorbitant amount of commercials, advertising their delectable goodies. The closest Popeye's to us is either in Redding or Rohnert Park so I'm guessing that's why our local programming has been bombarded by their greasy goodness.

I had the opportunity to visit a Popeye's when I went to New Orleans a few years back and let me tell you, it was a surreal experience. I know, kind of a funky thing to say about food - much less in reference to cheap chicken and gravy smothered spuds. Take heed when I tell you, it was that good. Everyone with me that day, also said the same thing. And this was before we began drinking the Hand Grenades.

Our local equivalent to Popeye's is KFC. I don't know about you, but whenever I eat KFC food, I end up drinking about a gallon of water and eating Tums for the next several hours. Plus, it's so freakin' expensive that it's not a place I eat at very often.

So what's the point of this posting? I swear I really have one...

Popeye's Chicken: Put up or shut up.

I can't handle looking at your commercials for one more second - knowing I'm going to have to drive at least four hours in order to partake amongst your chickeny goodness. Please, please please consider blessing us Humboldtians with a restaurant behind the redwood curtain. Our hips and lips would thank you. TREMENDOUSLY.

I know you would have made a fortune yesterday, should you have chosen to do a little foot work delivery near Redwood Park. *snort*

Please consider my heartfelt request. And if you choose to do so, feel free to bring your favorite cousin's, Coldstone and In-N-Out.

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

I know it's not November, so my thankfulness is kinda outta place, but here are some things recently that I'm thankful for. Please feel free to add yours.

1. I'm thankful for Knock-Knock Jokes. Especially the ones that revolve around dirty underwear and things that rhythme with "poop." I heard a plethora of them yesterday, as Gunny ran around the house with Hubby's underwear firmly planted on his head. I believe he was looking for comical inspiration. I just hope they were clean.

2. I'm thankful the State Water Resources Control Board is scrapping their harsh plan for new regulations and are now listening to the people in order to come up with a better idea. I'm part of the 20% of Humboldt County residents who own a septic system and these regulations could have cost us a fortune - if not our house.

3. I'm thankful we have a local Victoria's Secret. I've finally found the perfect bra within their pink perimeters and decided to place an order on-line. I quickly deleted my shopping cart containing three bras and three panties after they wanted to charge me $18.99 for shipping a pound of flimsy material. What the heck? I know the USPS is not doing so well but come on! Redonkulous.

4. I'm thankful for good dentists. Thank you Dr. Shin of Rio Dell for making my three child trip quick and pleasant.

5. I'm thankful for Octomom. She provides me with a constant source of entertainment and creepy looks. Do you know she is now trademarking the name "Octomom" so she can develop baby products and perhaps a reality TV show? Wow, I never saw that one coming. Good grief Nadya, your 15 minutes of glory is over. Concentrate on those babies rather than your fame.

6. I'm thankful for Kohls coming to the Bayshore Mall later this year. I just hope it can bring enough business in to save it since the Mall's owners recently filed for bankruptcy. While people might dislike the mall and what it represents, it still employees hundreds of people and has several tenants who are local small business owners.

7. I'm thankful for Facebook. It's like sitting at a big round table with friends and people I haven't seen in ages, and then sharing good conversation, pictures and cheesy games. I *heart* Bejeweled Blitz.

8. I'm thankful for the little bits of spring that has started to make its appearance. My lilacs are blooming, and my orchard is a bright mixture of different blossoms. My nose is running like a faucet but all is well.

9. I'm thankful that my three year old is becoming so verbal. And demanding. And gross. His current affliction with having to look at people's butts is a tad bit disconcerting - especially with company.

10. And finally, I'm thankful for my friends and family. No matter how dysfunctional we all are, we still hang together and make it through.

"A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked." ~ Bernard Meltzer

"Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life." ~ Mark Twain

Count your blessings on a daily basis. What are you thankful for?

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

On the first day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
A case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the second day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Two missing Easter eggs
And case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the third day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the fourth day of Easter vacation,
my children gave to me,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the fifth day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the sixth day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Six dirty undies knock knock jokes,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!!,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the seventh day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Seven unknown rashes,
Six dirty undies knock knock jokes,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!!,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the eighth day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Eight man-poop diapers,
Seven unknown rashes,
Six dirty undies knock knock jokes,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!!,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the ninth day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Nine shots of tequila,
Eight man-poop diapers,
Seven unknown rashes,
Six dirty undies knock knock jokes,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!!,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the tenth day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Ten throbbing migraines,
Nine shots of tequila,
Eight man-poop diapers,
Seven unknown rashes,
Six dirty undies knock knock jokes,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!!,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the eleventh day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Eleven chocolaty kisses,
Ten throbbing migraines,
Nine shots of tequila,
Eight man-poop diapers,
Seven unknown rashes,
Six dirty undies knock knock jokes,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!!,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

On the twelfth day of Easter vacation,
My children gave to me,
Twelve stinky burps and farts,
Eleven chocolaty kisses,
Ten throbbing migraines,
Nine shots of tequila,
Eight man-poop diapers,
Seven unknown rashes,
Six dirty undies knock knock jokes,
FIVE HOPP-INNNNGGG TOADS!!!!,
Four hours of sleep,
Three sugar highs,
Two missing Easter eggs,
And a case of anxxxx-IIII-uhhhhh-teeee!

I can't wait until Monday. Lord help me.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This is a repeat of a blog I posted about a year ago. I read about Farah Fawcett battling anal/colon cancer, and thought I'd post it again. No, it doesn't encourage your yearly colonoscopy but it is disgustingly funny.

A close family member (FM) has recently hit the age where the doctor feels it necessary to up the ante of their relationship; she wants dear 'ole FM to meet the rubber snake and get a colonoscopy. I wasn't with FM when the doc told him this but I could almost feel my own sphincter clenching up with sympathetic fear and dread. I agree that it's a great idea for him to go through the procedure because the evil "C" takes no prisoners. However, I could also see his point in that the idea of a tiny video camera getting snaked up your rectum, with several people in the room enjoying your anal experience in 3-D, is just a little wrong and unnerving. He really wasn't that interested in solidifying a solid and long lasting relationship with his doctor, but he agreed to do the procedure nonetheless.

The doc also mentioned that it would be a good idea for FM to go through an endoscopy as well, due to some stomach irritation and random bouts of projectile vomiting he had been experiencing. FM was reluctant at first but then the bargain shopper kicked in to help him clarify the situation. He asked the doc if a problem was located in either end, if they could go ahead and just fix it then and there, even if his sedation was only mild. He figured that he might get a two for one deal rather than having to take time out for further treatments and God forbid more surgeries. Of course, she told him that this was probably not going to happen and I had to chuckle, reminding him that you really shouldn't look for good deals when your dealing with someone who wants to stick something down your throat and up your anus. What happens if the bargain is made with the tubing? Certainly you'd hope that the throat video came first rather than vice versa.

I attempted to counsel FM by telling him that I've known several people who have went through this procedure and they have professed that the worst part about the whole thing is the super turbo laxative workout you do the day before. The doctor evidently wants your little sphincter and colon so clean that he or she could practically serve a four course dinner on it, with perhaps room for dessert. I told FM that this wasn't such a big deal and that he could just look forward to losing enough water weight that he might once again fit into that banana hammock he was so fond of - that is of course, as long as he could tuck the hemmies in that he was surely to aggravate with the powerful screaming colon cleanse. With that thought, he seemed to settle down just a bit and settled into the notion that he was going to be subjected to what a muppet feels like on a daily basis. And the fact that he won't be able to trust his farts for at least a few days.

The countdown to the big Roto Rooter draining cleaning event is slated for the mid part of March and FM is slowly getting used to the idea that for at least a couple of hours, his colon and upper GI will be the hit of the party. No, Katie Couric won't be there to tape his monumentous occasion, but FM promised that he'd ask for a personal copy of the tape to show at his next football party. In all seriousness, I'm glad that he's having this done because following lung cancer, colorectal cancer is the second leading cause of cancer death in the US. By "ass"king the right questions, "ass"uming he's doing the right thing, and simply "ass"cending into a state of personal awaren"ass", he's helping to lower those statistics. Yes, I had to throw some Jim Carrey via Ace Ventura potty humor, *butt* why wouldn't I? :o)

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

We had an interesting this weekend, mainly in part to the gorgeous weather Mother Nature provided us with. It all started early on Saturday morning when Hubby got a chance to go on his first ever turkey hunting trip. He bagged a very handsome gobbler that will feed us well on Easter. I took lots of pics of him doing burlesque type poses with the gorgeous feathers, but you'll just have to believe me since my POS Dell is still in the shop and I can't upload photos. He explained to me that it was quite challenging to actually call the turkeys in. Evidently, they don't answer to "gobble, gobble" and they have excellent eyesight and hearing. He even had camoflauge socks on, so cute! Err, I mean handsome. Cute is not a good hunting word, or so I've been informed.

On Saturday afternoon, C-dub had his very first coach pitch practice game. Again, I took lots of pics but they will probably forever live on my camera since my worthless, POS, I hate Dell, computer is living with another man. A man who will hopefully perform a miracle and save my pictures. I guess there was a reason I bought the external hard drive. Too bad I wasn't smart enough to use it.

After the game, I took the kids to the park playground and let them burn up some pent-up energy. All was well until tweaker Granny showed up with her red plastic cup. I dunno 'bout you, but whenever I see someone packing around a plastic cup at the park on a beautiful sunny day, I tend to think the person might be enjoying a Beverly rather than a glass of Kool-Aid. Once she stood near me, my suspicions were correct and I realized that Granny was lit to high heaven. Thankfully, the little gal she was ever so carefully instructing on proper slide technique, had other adults there to care for her.

While watching my kiddos, tweaker drunk Granny called over to her lazy lover, tweaker drunk Grandpa. Tweaker drunk Grandpa also instructed the little gal on how to properly use the playground equipment, in a painfully, deliberate, complete with speech slurred sorta way.

Finally, the Grandparents of the Year decided to leave and I watched them walk off towards the street. I hoped beyond hopes they had walked to the park rather than drove, but amazingly enough, I saw them stop at a little truck and open the door. They were planning on driving away. While I dialed the police on my cell phone, I watched as tweaker drunk Grandma first climbed in the driver's seat. Realizing she'd be better to let the drunker of the two drive, she slid to the middle and left tweaker drunk Grandpa take over the helm of their ride. As I provided pertinent information to the police, they drove off; right down the same street where hundereds of people had gathered to watch first baseball games, fly kites, have BBQ's and enjoy the beautiful weather. Like I've said before, what a pair of asshats.

I dunno if the police ever caught them, but I sure hope they did. I can't stand drunk drivers and will always do my part to protect my family and community. I hope you'd do the same in a situation like that.

How as your weekend? What was the weather like in your neck of the woods?

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Check it out here. I feel terrible for that little girl. When they catch that sperm donor, I hope karma has found him first. What an asshat.

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I know I'm late in putting this out, but today is designated as World Autism Awareness Day. Autism is a neurobiological disorder that affects 1 in 150 children, almost 1.5 million Americans. I have several friends and family members who have autistic children. Watching and knowing these families has shown me how difficult and blessed life can be with an autistic child. They truly are little miracles, capable do doing anything they set their incredible minds to.

I encourage anyone reading this posting to show your support and donate anyway possible. Whether it be time or money, or just spreading the word of autism awareness, it will take all of us to discover a cure.

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm hoping this notice was in the jest of April Fools', but just in case you're an out of work, experienced vampire hunter, I have an ad for you. In today's T-S "Help Wanted" ads, it reads:

Seeking Exp'd Vampire Hunters. Must have current vaccinations & weapons training. FT night shift. Benes avail. 441-0570 for more info.

I love it!!!

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm sorry I've been MIA. It's been a rough coupla weeks - but I'll explain that later. I'm sure you've all been sitting there with bated breath for my next post...

*knock, knock*

Is this thing even on?

*crickets chirping*

After having experienced three practices with coach-pitched baseball, I'm happy to say that I think C-dub will be just fine. He seems to love it, although I find myself cringing whenever they throw the ball to him and he dives to catch it in such a dramatic, compound fracture leg breaking sorta way. It seems that since C-dub has started kindergarten, he has turned into an absolute clutz - almost like the missing member of the three stooges. Judging from the way the other little boys on the team dramatically throw themselves to the ground for no apparent reason, I guess he's a normal kid.

I know he's having fun, but it does cause me some stress. I fear for his teeth and the new tooth that just sprouted. I worry for his turquoise blue eyeballs and the his perfect little snub nose. He's my middle child; he's my Jan Brady. He gives me such anxiety with his antics.

The practices only last an hour but it's long enough to let Gunny roll around in the awesome dirt pile and practice his driving skills with his monstah twucks:

And, it's long enough for Taterbug to sit in the stands (bundled up), making friends and giving up family secrets:

An interesting tidbit about the blanket wrapped around Taterbug - it's an original blanket from one of the old Pacific Lumber bunkhouses. Papa Tom aquired it ages ago and I have a feeling we'll have it forever since you can't even tell it's a relic.

All in all, it's good, somewhat clean fun, although the biting weather does produce some monstruous "Dumb and Dumber" snotsicles.

As far as the tears go, the good news is that they aren't for my Grandma. After a bunch of additional tests, pokes, and stress, it was determined that the "cancerous tumor" is actually a large, innocuous cyst, and the neurologist will be watching it's growth for the next several months. I congratulated my Grandma on her large internal zit. Her relief allowed for a chuckle.

The real tears are for a life situation I'm dealing with. Without going into too many therapeutic details, I'm trying to work through an issue where I need to make some tough choices about friendship, loyalty and truth. I'm in such an emotional state right now and the phrase, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me," has been echoing through my head. I dunno what I'm going to do but climbing in a hole and hiding out until next year, sounds very appealing right about now.

On a different note, as soon as my POS laptop gets repaired, I'll have some new pic's to post that are sure to turn you "green" with envy and may even bring you a prince, if you kiss it right :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

Today, Oakland PD began to lay their brothers to rest. I really feel for this Department as well as the city as a whole. Peace and healing needs to start and I hope it does soon.

A PART OF AMERICA DIED

Somebody killed a policeman today
And a part of America died...
A piece of our country he swore to protect
Will be buried with him at his side.
The beat that he walked was a battlefield, too,
Just as if he had gone off to war;
Though the flag of our nation won't fly at half-mast
To his name they will add a gold star.
The suspect that shot him will stand up in court
With counsel demanding his rights,
While a young, widowed mother must work for her kids
And spend many long, lonely nights.
Yes, somebody killed a policeman today...
Maybe in your town or mine,
While we slept in comfort behind our locked doors A cop put his life on the line.
Now his ghost walks the beat on a dark city street,
And he stands at each new rookie's side:
He answered the call . . . of himself he gave his all,
And a part of America died...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Memory :
Deputy Nicholas S. Bryant
Lee County, Sheriffs Dept, Ft. Myers Fl.
April 12, 1972 - April 19, 1998.

Posted by Mommazilla at 01:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

You don't expect to find them as cancerous tumors living within the head of a loved one. When my mom called tonight, I could instantly tell something was wrong. Her voice reeked of worry and she confirmed her anxiety by telling me she was at the ER with my bingo-loving grandma. Grandma had been experiencing a terrible headache since earlier today. So bad in fact, she decided she needed to be taken to the ER.

I didn't take the news lightly; My grandma is a tough old lady, having had a plethora of kids to raise and contend with over the past 82 years of her young life. I knew it was bad if she agreed to go willingly to the hospital (and not because we had handcuffed and hog-tied her).

My mom informed me she didn't have much information as Grandma was currently getting further testing done. I asked her if the doctor had any idea of what was going on and she said that he did not. I was instantly worried she was having a stroke or some other serious malady - as I'm a worrier and tend expect the worst but hope for the best. Mom calmed me down by assuring me it was more than likely just a migraine and that Grandma would be back home and in time to catch the shuttle to Cher-Ae Heights.

A few hours later, information started to roll in as to the true condition of my grandma. When all was said and done, the neurologist who looked at her scans explained she had a lemon-sized tumor at the rear of her skull, embedded into her brain and skull cap. He thought the tumor was probably cancerous and had been living there, rather quietly, for awhile. The tumor was putting a great deal of pressure on Grandma's brain, causing the pain and dizziness she was feeling. Thankfully, the traveling neurologist will be in Humboldt this Monday and she will be seeing him for possible treatment ideas, which also come with their own dangers.

At this point of my life, I'm just about ready to throw in the towel and say to the world:

"Uncle! I freakin' give up. You got me!"

Seriously, I think I need to hide in bed until the month of March is over. April has to be better or I'm going on strike.

If you're a religious person or a person with your own spirituality, I would greatly appreciate you saying a prayer or positive thought for my Grandma. She has more great-grandchildren to see, more bingo games to play, and most importantly, she's the #1 fan of my blog.

Lord, you can't have her yet. I can't make other recommendations if you're needin' somebody, but Grandma stays with us.

I love you Grandma.

Posted by Mommazilla at 02:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

Thanks to Tracey, I now have a video that truly celebrates this posting:

I'm really sorry that I've been such a bad blogger lately. I do have an excuse that relates directly to my title. My house has been overcome by Sir Barfs-a-lot and his evil sidekick, Sir Poops-a-lot. It all started with C-dub having a projectile session early on Sunday morning and then Gunny following his lead with a midnight hurl last night. Hubby (who is still at home and recovering) and I have been cleaning carpets and doing endless loads of laundry, all the while keeping our fingers crossed that the stomach bug doesn't bite us in the - well, you know where. Literally.

And to be totally honest, my life has been rather boring lately without too much to comment on. The kids have been relatively sane and Hubby has been a huge help around the house since being home free from problem appendix. Other than the sporadic puking, I really have nothing to complain about, which really isn't like me.

I did have a momentous appointment on St. Patrick's Day. Without going into the gory details, it was an appointment I've re-scheduled over and over again for the past three years. I hate going to the doctor especially for this trip, the one I like to call "Bonazaesque" since I'm back in the saddle with feet firmly planted in the *cough* stirrups. Yes ladies, I'm talkin' about the dreaded visit where our girly bits are the star of the show. Where the doctor or midwife can't recognize you at the grocery store unless you're naked. It's the...dun, dun, dah!...glamorous pelvic exam and ever so pleasant sounding pap smear. Oh joy of joys, how I love this trip.

In honor of St. Patty's day, I almost chose to do a green glitter sort of theme but thought better of it in case the doc wanted pics. Or to test me further with more probing and needles.

Hubby doesn't understand why I dread these visits so much; after all, I look forward to labor and find my greatest accomplishment to be natural childbirth. I tried to explain to him while you're in terrific agony or under the influence of fabulous pain medication, you really couldn't give two schats as to who looks at your hoo-hah. Under the stone cold veil of utter sobriety, it's slightly embarrassing having another person break out the salad tongs and tell you to relax all the while asking you questions about your kids and what you're making for dinner that night.

Prior to the doc making her entry (not the best word to use, I guess), the nurse asked me several questions related to my personal life and history. When she got to the point of protection and what I used, my answer was simple;

Children and opposite shifts.

She looked at me quizzically but then wrote it down anyway. The she asked me me if that meant I was abstinent. My reply was:

Not by choice.

Yes, children who find your bed much more comfortable than your own and who enjoy watching a scary episode of Ghost Hunters prior to bedtime, provide an excellent form of birth control for poor parents like ourselves. And remember, after the birth of Gunny, we finally figured out what was causing these little curtain crawlers to keep showing up so we just stopped doin' it.

While the nurse was asking me questions, I could hear my cell phone vibrating. During this sensitive time of my life, Hubby took it upon himself to send me numerous texts asking about equipment temperatures, table positioning, and other vulgar things he thought hilariously funny. I can't wait for his first colonoscopy. I will be there, selling tickets while shooting video that will live streaming on this blog. Boo yah!

I know it was very bad of me to wait so long and I hope the rest of you have more common sense and courage than I did. It's really stupid to skip preventative appointments - even if you're a big fat chicken, like as myself.

Which appointment freaks you out the most? The dentist? Eye doctor? Any doctor?

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was recently perusing our local blogs and found some very poignant postings on Auntie Mayme's Couch. One posting that caught my eye was in regards to Megan's Law and it reminded me that I haven't recently checked out the site to see if I had any sex offenders living in my neighborhood. I was very unpleasantly surprised to see I had two offenders living within a one block radius of my house. They live on the street which directly borders the top portion of my property. Just a hop, skip, and a jump could allow one of these guys to peer right right into one of my windows - and then down the barrel of my 30th birthday present.

The worst part? They are both registered due to offenses related to the molestation of a child (or children) under the age of 14. I noticed that one of them just became out of compliance which means he didn't even bother to register this year. God knows where he is currently living.

Did you know that approximately 25% of sex registrants are not even included on the Megan's Law website? The state weighs each crime and then determines whether or not the crime should be included based on the safety of the public. Here are the list of offenses that the state considers to be a registrable offenses. This page discusses what crimes may be excluded from the Megan's law website. In essence, you could be living right next door to an offender and never know it. But don't worry, the government knows whether or not this person is a threat. *Insert sarcastic eye roll here.*

The Megan's Law website says that in Humboldt County, we have 326 sex registrants. Of those registrants, I counted 30 of them as having a big red check mark - indicating they are in violation and are not currently registered. Of all people to keep dibs on, these people should be a the top of the list.

I don't believe for a second that you can totally rehab a sex offender. I equate their existence to be that of a ticking time bomb; just waiting for that perfect opportunity to arise. I may be wrong about that, but I'm certainly not willing to test the waters out in my community. The idea that 30 of these creeps are out of compliance in our county is truly frightening and unacceptable. However, I really doubt that our local law enforcement agencies have either the time or money to round these monsters up.

I guess the good news is that we, as citizens, have the ability to educate ourselves and see who the predators are in our community, by using this website. Empower yourself and protect your family by knowing who lives near you. I hate to sound paranoid or preachy, but our children are our greatest gifts; don't let a slime ball steal away any of their innocence.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

If you are going to be on a television show that is watched by thousands if not millions of people, it might be wise to obtain proper permits and allowances in order to do your profession.

This is a note that should have be written and practiced by the owners of S&S Aqua Logging. They were recently featured on the History Channel's "Ax Men" show. The men who operate this company are actually my favorite crew to watch because they seemed to blunder about so much that you automatically expect a disaster if not a good old fashioned family fight between the crew. One episode will tell you these guys do not have their act together but it sure makes for good TV and beautiful fireplace hearths.

Speaking of those logs, that's what got them into trouble. Evidently the idea of obtaining permits and potentially ruining the Hoquiam River environment didn't seem to cross their minds while they fumbled and bumbled around on their barge uprooting ancient logs. They were eventually caught by the officers from the Washington Department of Natural Resources, who had watched "Ax Men" and saw the crime being committed. Oops! Needless to say, a search warrant was issued, no permits were found, and now they're in a bit of trouble.

I love the quote uttered by one of the Smiths' (partial owner of S&S Aqua Logging). He said, "We're normal guys that do extraordinary things." Yeah, like commit crimes and then tape them for the whole world to see. Good job, boys.

Anyhoo, if you haven't see the show, take a look at it when it comes on. It's actually a very interesting show that will make you thankful for a desk job.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm so excited that my mother-in-law and Barbie share the same birthday. I'm sure my MIL is as well. Afterall, they are both icons in their own right; one for our family and the other our society. Anyhoo, in the tradition of embarrassment:

Happy birthday Grandma Linda! We love you!!!

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I've always been a huge Barbie fan. I remember (as a little girl) my very first Barbie was clad in a bikini and reeked like some sort of nasty coconut suntan lotion. She had big boobs, a fake tan line, and straight bleached blonde hair; she was gorgeous and I loved her. A few weeks later, Ken came along and then Skipper and a few more Barbie friends. My infatuation with this doll lasted well throughout my childhood and continues on with my own daughter, who still plays with her dolls on occasion.

My favorite dolls were the ones with big sparkly dresses and poofy hair but on occasion, I did enjoy collecting the dolls that were just a bit harder to find. Like this one:

Trailer Trash Barbie:

I love me some Tattoo Barbie:

And you can't forget about Gangsta Barbie:

And someone from Humboldt County even came up with some local specials:

Manila Barbie:

Bayside Barbie:

Trinidad Barbie:

Eureka Barbie:

Arcata Barbie:

Fortuna Barbie:

McKinleyville Barbie:

Sunny Brae Barbie:

And my supreme favorite (of course!):

Boudoir Barbie:

Can't get enough Barbie? Get a candid look into her life here.

Happy birthday Barbie! Here's to another 50 more!

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Not necessarily work or child safe, but good for a giggle.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Since I'm technically taking care of four children this week, my life has been a little chaotic to say the least. Rather than trying to compose myself into paragraphs, I'd like to share a few observations and gripes with you all. Should you not care to hear me biotch about my life, please feel free to skip this posting and carry on with your fabulous life. Or, feel free to add your own. Good day!

1. To Safeway: I hate you. You recently changed your chocolate chip cookies to a perfect combination of chewy, chocolately goodness. I mourned they're loss after I ate the whole freakin' package. Damn you Safeway.

2. To the old guy at Winco: Did you seriously need to take up the whole bagging area? And then only put one item in at a time? Good grief, basic bagging 101, I'm sending you to grocery school. I knew there was a reason I only went there once a month.

3. To the little boy passing notes to my Taterbug: Watch yourself, buddy. Keep'em g-rated and don't even think about making contact. She's says your too short anyway, so back off, Mister.

4. To the makers of Vicodin: Thank you for taking Hubby's pain away. Thanks for making him snore so loud I have to sleep on the couch. Thanks for making me have to parent by myself for the past four days since he's been out of comission.

5. To the Pediatrician's Office: Thanks for giving me an approximately five minute delay between after the doctor leaves and when the nurse comes in to administer the "ouchie." Please remember that I have a smart three year old that knows all too well what's gonna happen when he can't immediately put his pants back on after the doc leaves.

6. To my parents and in-laws: Not a gripe but a huge THANK YOU. You guys have helped us out so much this week. I love you and so does your wussy baby (Hubby).

7. To my kitteh kats: Seriously? It takes me all of five minutes to clean out your litter box and replenish it with sweet smelling litter. Why is it that Gracie immediately needs to do the potty dance as soon as I start the process and then leave me a gift exactly where the litter box goes? Ugh.

8. To Wendy: Why, why, why did you molest my eyeballs with this video? I'm a huge proponent of breastfeeding and even extended breastfeeding, but when your child can compare which breast has more milk and then communicate with a camera crew about his mum's "nummies," it's just WRONG. And an 8 year old still nursing? I'm not even going to go there.

9. To the Chicken Nugget Lady: Congrats on your 15 minutes of fame. At least the story ended with a happy ending; you went to jail plus McDonald's sent you a coupon for a free meal. Way to waste resources while entertaining the general public.

10. To the Penis Addicted Anchorwoman: Thanks for the laugh. I needed it.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Can you believe that Daylight Saving Time hits us next weekend (March 8th)? Where did the time go? At least we're one step closer to summer.

On a side note, now is a good time to change in the batteries in your smoke detectors. And if you don't have smoke detectors, go buy some for chriminy's sake!

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

I've been searching all week for some sort of powerful statement, picture or saying to put down for my 500th post. Yes, that's right, I've been rambling enough to cover 500 posts. Your eyes have been accosted by my words and pictures for the past year and I truly thank you for reading.

Rather than dwell on my own blog, I thought I'd share the love and pass on some blogs I check on a daily basis. I'm always looking for new things to read, so here ya go:

Looking for recipes, beautiful pictures, and witty writing? Check no further because you'll get it here, The Pioneer Woman.

Are you a fan of beautiful landscape shots and smart, well-thought out writing? You'll find it at the Redheaded Blackbelt.

Do you need a little sugar and spice mixed in with some political commentary? Check out my naughty friend, Jen.

Looking for great writing mixed with sweet mommy stories? Check out Beth's Blog.

Looking for a fabulous doula and some inspirational writing? Go no further than Tracey.

Are you a survivor of any sort of diet? This blog is hilarious and feels your pain.

Another lovely lady and photographer at the Beachcomber.

Wanna see my daily photo?

Are you a fan of interesting photos and superb storytelling? Visit Scriptor Senex.

Looking for different perspectives on being a mom and wife? Check out my fellow mommy bloggers and friends:

Jen
Bobbi
Rebecca
Bri
Joyce
Lisa
Bridget
Deanna
Samantha
Tami
Tiffany
Naomi

Who do you enjoy reading? There are so many blogs out there that it seems everyone can find something they enjoy. Let me know of some good ones!

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I'm a people watcher. I get the opportunity to practice my skills each day when I pick up my kids from school. It's the only thing I have to look forward to after navigating the school parking lot and dealing with the ditsy parents who think they can drive, handle their children while chatting on their cell phone, and drink their mocha frappucino (hold the whip or they'll have to do extra laps in Fit Camp). My blood pressure seriously rises about 50 points in that parking lot and I have daily visions of driving a monster truck and running over their little fertility buses (a.k.a. mini vans).

Woohoo! Thanks for that. I feel much better now.

Anyway, back to the point of this posting and onto the reason behind my title. There are a couple of moms, in particular, I watch everyday. I just can't help myself. Why, you ask? Because they smile. All the freakin' time. Rain, wind, sleet or snow, their pearly whites will be exposed, molesting nearby eyeballs. It's like spooky Katie Holmes vacant smiles - robotic almost. *shudders*

No one smiles all the time unless (I've come up with my own three conclusions):

(A) They're heavily medicated.
(B) They're drunk.
(C) They're also dreaming of monster trucks and parking lot car crunching.

Seriously, Joker face, cut it out. Pollyanna, you're gonna make me blow chunks.

Perhaps I'm just jealous because I want what they're taking. Maybe they know something I don't and it's terribly entertaining for them to know this. Whatever the case, these ladies with the constant grin freak me the heck out. My inner voice screams out, "Stepford wife!", and I want to run away as fast as possible. You cannot be happy all the time - it's not physically possible - especially when you have children or a man in your life. 'Nuff said.

I've devised a childish plan to combat my feelings of insecurity when dealing with a smiler. Whenever one of the smilers glance my way, I frown. And not just a little frown but a big one like I'm in pain or I just lost my favorite monkey to a traveling circus. If anything, it makes me feel better and it causes the smiler to rethink her smile for just a moment. Or she just smiles bigger in an attempt to share her contagious smile.

You just can't win with a smiler. ;-)

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I watched this yesterday. I'm even more troubled for these children after watching the joker and her mother go at it for the public's enjoyment. There doesn't appear to be anybody stable in this family and 14 little children are going to suffer because of it.

And Nadya, it's, "You can't go back and un-ring a bell."

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's Family Movie Night and guess what we're watching? A mega hit of the 1980's that was sadly overlooked for an Oscar even though the acting was superb and the special effects were astonishing. That's right, we're watching...

Weird Science

This is one of my favorite movies from back in the days. You just can't beat two horny teenage boys and a beautiful Kelly LeBrock.

I do love this movie but it's certainly not my favorite. I love me some Molly Ringwald and Long Duck Dong. Remember this one? I could watch Sixteen Candles over and over again:

Or how about a little Sci Fi? For the longest time I wanted to meet Flash Gordon. I was also scared of putting my hands into tree stumps thanks to this movie:

But my all time favorite movie has to be this one:

For the longest time, Kristy McNichol and Christoper Atkins were my Brad and Angelina. Youtube has the entire movie in 10 minute increments, and I think I've watched it about 100 times. Blue Lagoon ain't got nothin' on Mabel and Freddy's love affair.

What's your favorite 1980's movie? Do you like any of the one's I mentioned or do you have your own faves? Join me on my pants pegging, Aqua net using, matching big sweater and leg warmer wearing, and banana clip in the hair adventure.

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

When Hubby and I first got married, we slowly made friends with other couples and started to have our first "grown-up" friendships - ones not automatically acquired in high school or joint ventures at college beer pong sessions.

Once such couple, M & F, had been married for longer than 50 years. Hubby originally met them through a construction job and I had known them through some part-time work I had done after high school. We'd periodically stop by and visit and they were one of the stops we made every Halloween to show off the kidlet costumes. It was a nice and steady friendship, one that's lasted over the past 10 years.

We recently learned that M's heart problems had returned and that he'd been having several related medical issues. Hubby received a frantic call from F one night, because she knew M would not be able to get into their house without a smooth ramp and handrail. Hubby quickly remedied this situation and M was able to navigate his front porch.

I just learned that M took a turn for the worse and is now in a coma. He probably won't be making it back home after this latest hospital trip. My heart grieves for F who is losing her husband, lover, and best friend. The thought of losing someone who had been in my life since my late teens and adulthood, through children and grandchildren, for better or for worse - it's just unfathomable to me. How do you say goodbye? How do you keep going with that terrible vacancy living with you in your family home?

*Sigh*

I know I'm being selfish in this because I can't help but think of myself and what I'd do - and will do - in this situation. M & F have had a wonderful life and a marriage that many of us can admire and look upon for inspiration. I guess I never thought about it ending like this which is foolish because everyone dies. I know that F has tremendous family support and faith, and she's gonna get through this. I just hate that she has to.

Sorry to be a Debbie Downer with this posting but I'm just sad. The world is truly losing a good man and we're losing a good friend. I wish him a safe journey.

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

After just a few days, I was already tired of my boring layout, so I decided to change things up. I'm still working out some annoying bugs...

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

This is tomorrow! Don't forget - rain or shine!