Gnomes, Cammo, Cheese, and Rabbit Food...

The freaks, do indeed, come out at night. I am absolving myself of any association with that comment by stating that this observation was all in the name of anthropology.

My girl-pal K and I went to another personal hell of mine last night; Wal-Mart. I know I have stated my loathing for Wal-Mart in the past, so no need to delve into that right now.

To fully understand, let me start at the beginning....
Target had a garden gnome in their Christmas aisle that I began coveting prior to Thanksgiving. He had an adorable red hat perched on his head, and a candle held between his gnome mitts. I had named him before I even crossed the aisle to look at him closely.

Since this was not my first time batting in the ole Tar-jay ballgame, I did not let Gnomie's $24.99 price tag dissuade me. I knew, starting on Christmas Eve, he would be had at a "g"nominally reduced price. Since there were 8 in stock, I kept my eyes on the prize.

K is also a big fan and avid collector of the Gnome. She immediately joined in "Gnome Hunt 08". Every time either of us would hit the local Target we would call the other with a "Gnome Report".

K's husband searched out the Target by his office yesterday to discover the Gnome had been marked down to 75% off, making it a mere $6.24. Sold! As soon as I left choir practice (8 pm), I picked up K and we were on our way to my Terra Cot ta victory.

After securing a gnome to take home and call my own, we wandered around the store aimlessly listening to the overhead announcements tell us "Target would be closing in 30 minutes", "15 minutes","10 minutes", "Okay, really. You silly bitches back there in the Christmas aisle? Yeah we see you, and we want to go home. Get the hell out of our store!", "Target is now closed".

As we left Target, K mentioned a curiosity about the reducing of merchandise at the local Wal-Mart. I was drunk on gnome love, so why not?

We wandered around Wal-Mart for about an hour, and then we took our (read: K's) purchases up to the checkout. Yes, I mean the checkout in the literal sense. Only one register was running. I think the lady running it may have been on her first day.

The "gentleman" in front of us in line had some very interesting purchases.

First: he was wearing a down filled camouflage coat. Skin tight Wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, greasy mullet, and a smug expression.

In his hands to purchase? ANOTHER down-filled camouflage coat, a huge bag of rabbit food, and a can of NO-Doze.

One might automatically assume that he was going hunting. (Maybe wrascily wabbit?) Until.... we spotted him checking out movies at the red box in the "lobby" of Wal-Mart. I wanted to sit in my car and watch and see how long he would stand there, but my growling stomach got the best of me.

K and I had a midnight debate on where to eat, and K brilliantly suggested "Steak-n-Shake". (Dear Husband, if you are reading this, I went to Steak and Shake under protest. I would never eat at one of your favorite spots without you.) That being said, we chugged on over to SNS to find we were two of many customers- but only two of a small amount of customers over the age of 18.

Both WM and SNS had teenage (boys) roaming all over. At the risk of sounding old- what are these kids doing out at midnight? I have a mortgage, and two small children. I have earned the right to stay out all night if I wanted (and physically could).

These kids- piercings every where. And, the ambiguous hair! And, skinny jeans, on a BOY! They were making my cammo clad friend at the Wal-Mart appear more and more normal.
Granted, there were a few jockish kids squeezed into a booth that were free of visible piercings or std's. If I were a 17 year old girl, I would definitely be tempted to stroll the aisles of W-M or eat a midnight bite at SNS.

But, I wouldn't have been allowed.

Because my daddy always told me there is nothing to do after midnight but get in trouble.

A Very Diva Christmas

A brief re-cap of the last week:

Monday- got strep throat. Well, technically I don't know when I contracted it, that was just the day of my diagnosis. Plus side, doctor says I am down 4 lbs since last visit (2 weeks ago) Deem throat too sore to eat much beyond popsicles.
Bob home on vacation.

Tuesday- choir practice (which I pretty much sat silently through- see Mon) Bob still home.

Wednesday- Christmas Eve. Went to my parents for lunch. Went to church at 4 and 6 masses, sang my three sizes too small heart out. Came home, wrapped presents, played Santa. Got to take a bite out of the cookies Rebecca and Sarah left out for the fat man in red. Guilt free, as am doing parental duty and making memories. Weighed myself before bed, down one more lb, not sure how. Wonder how Bob managed to make it through entire holiday without wrapping a single gift.

Thursday- Wake up before divas. Enjoy coffee and silence, knowing this is probably last year of peace before the divas wake me up at an absurdly early time to open presents. In true Diva fashion, Rebecca does not want to wear Christmas pajamas in red plaid print that were painstakingly picked out for her. Feels that Cinderella dress with Belle crown is more appropriate. For once, I win the wardrobe battle, only by promising the opening of presents.

Later Thursday- Divas have bored with the ripping open of paper, and now want to play. May or may not uttered very loud curse words over the packaging for a Barbie doll. Send Divas to Daddy with all other presents that need opening or assembly.

Even later Thursday- Fall asleep, woken up by loud crying. Rebecca has ran into the kitchen island, and the island won the battle. Rebecca is more upset about potentially getting blood on her outfit (Cinderella dress up complete with hooker heels) than she is the pain. Cut is very deep and bleeding a lot.

30 minutes later- in route to the E.R. Rebecca is still asking me why she could not wear her princess dress to the "doctor"

1 hour later- armed with two teddy bears, a popsicle, a coloring book and crayons, and a dermabonded forehead, Rebecca is realeased from the ER. I am assuming a large bill is on it's way for me.

Friday- Bob still on vacation, went to scour clearance racks at Target and Kohls. Bought pajamas for the divas with my Christmas money.Wonder when the day will come that I spend my Christmas money on myself?

Hump Day Musings....Presents, garlic, and Red Bull

I have lots of presents to wrap.... the divas and I are road-tripping on Saturday to see my grandparents for Christmas, so I can slack no longer on wrapping the gifts that need to go with me. I wrapped some of the diva's gifts one evening, and now I can't remember what I bought them!

My friend Amy from MI sent a GIANT box of gifts for the divas today. I went ahead and let them open them, and I am glad I did, because it takes Rebecca approximately 30 minutes to open one gift! Christmas day should be fun. I am thinking of letting them open all of the non-Santa gifts before Christmas.

Seriously, Rebecca pulled one-inch strips of wrapping paper. One at a time.... I was starting to think she would outgrow the toy before she got it open. Auntie Amy sent a FP laptop, an Elmo Live!, 2 puzzle books, candy, and some cute clothes. My favorite- each diva got a cute t-shirt that says "Future Wolverine" (U of Michigan is my Alma mater). Normally I am not a big fan of shirts that "say" things, but these are super- cute.

My house smells like garlic. I made a spaghetti bake for dinner. I loathe cooking. Well, that is not entirely true, I enjoy cooking without people fussing at my feet. The divas are under the impression that I am a short order cook. Rebecca usually turns down whatever I am making in lieu of a bowl of fruit. She is not willing to eat meat, or much else but fruit and crackers. (and the occasional chicken nugget) She also likes ice. She is one Red Bull and Marlboro away from being a model.

Sarah will eat about anything you give her. I love that. Rebecca has been picky since she was in the womb! She started that Diva behavior early.......but at least she gets it honestly!

Dora and Playboy

Since starting this blog last week, I realized I really enjoy writing. I only wish I had more time! I am definitely not above letting the television baby sit my children so I can get something done, but the dishes and laundry have not received the message that diva-mom has better things to do!

Dora the Explorer is a staple in my house. Dora the show, Dora books, Dora plates, toys, underwear, I swear they will stick that Latino girl's face on anything! Sarah can say approximately 5 words clearly. One of those is Dora. (See Noggin IS just like pre-school on t.v.)

The reason I bring this up? I am able to sit here and type this because currently Dora is teaching my kids some Spanglish..

Before I had kids there were many shows I said my kids would not watch. There were also many shows I didn't even know existed. We have all heard of Dora and SpongeBob due to their mugs being splashed on every product available. (Kotex presents the "SpongeBob Sponge!" "extra absorbency!") There were channels I didn't even know existed. Noggin? Sprout? Nick? Nick Jr? Playboy? Disney?
Well, maybe you say Playboy isn't for kids, but once you have two toddlers running you ragged all day, paired with a husband who still thinks you should give him some more than bi-monthly, you do what you gotta do.
Believe me, if Momma Diva ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy!

Thursday's Snow

Pic 1:
Look closely, you can see me and the divas freezing our J-Lo's off on the porch!
Pic 2:
Doesn't Rebecca resemble Cindy Lou Who?
Pic 3:
Me and my Sare-bear outside watching it snow!

Week-in-Update

Up Now in the Soup.........

Yes, yes, my three loyal readers, I know I am a slack ass who needs to get to blogging. I am extremely poor at time management. I love to write, and am loving writing this blog, but I cant quite find time. I am going to get better, don't stray!

Monday- took the divas to the doctor. Rebecca got the flu "mist" and acting like we were torturing her. She cried when Sarah got her shots, yelling at the nurse "Stop hurting my sister!" That was a little traumatic for her. She then witnessed me get my flu shot and they were both crying. Although, I have to say I don't think Sarah's tears had anything to do with me being in pain. Mostly she was pissed that I set her down for two minutes and was not able to get into my womb... I swear she would re-claim residence there if she could.

Tuesday- I can think of what I did. Oh yeah, I cooked dinner.... whats the special ingredient? Resentment. I hate cooking.

Wednesday- I woke up and managed to keep the divas fed and alive... what more do you people want from me?

Thursday- hosted a playdate for my SH Mom's group. Kids wore jammies. Ate lots of cookies... vacuumed up lots of cookie crumbs.

Later Thursday- It started snowing. Pretty, right? Yeah, until you leave to drive to choir practice only to get there and find out two other people showed up.

Even later Thursday- drove home on pretty much a solid sheet of ice. Thankful for 4 wheel drive.

Friday- Went to the doctor, by myself, pretended I was on exotic vacation. (we moms have to take the alone time we get!)

Friday Night- Went to Trader Joe's.... I heart Trader Joe's, it ranks in my tri-fecta of the best stores (in case you are wondering.. Amazon.com, Target, and Trader Joe's)

Even Later... type this blog, go to bed. I promise more to come.
P.S.... Tennessee sucks. No wine sales at Trader Joe's. Am thinking of leading a protest.

My Personal Hell

I was raised in a Baptist household, going to church every Sunday and Wednesday, and taught about heaven and hell. Basically, go up if your good, down if you are bad.

As I became an adult I have developed my own theories on religion. While I am becoming active in our church (I have become a Catholic in recent years, but that is another post) I don't necessary share the same ideas as many churches....
Amanda's version of heaven:
3,000 thread count sheets on self-making beds
Rich delicious meals with no calories
Naps whenever you want
No responsibilities
Ice Cream, lots of Ice Cream
Round the Clock Massage Service
No Bad Hair Days
Wine consumption with no headache

Amanda's version of hell:
Taking my two kids to get their Christmas Picture made.


Mr. Bob (my dh) said that as soon as we walked into the portrait studio I tensed up. Damn straight I did! And that's after a Xanax and coffee breakfast. I knew what was coming- thirty minutes that I consider more painful than listening to Britney Spears "sing" a ballad. I would take nipple piercings and a root canal without meds over what I knew we were about to endure.

Something in the air of the studio brings out the worst in my kiddos. They love the Lego table in the waiting room and do not want to leave it to go smile and stand still for the camera. Apparently my need to capture their childhood is not a huge priority for them.

My normally angelic darlings... whoops, sorry, I just spit out my drink laughing as I typed that, became fussy, whiny, dare I say it, DIVAS once the camera was aiming at them. I swear I heard Sarah utter her first full sentence under her breath, something to the tune of, "I am not doing another shoot without craft services!" and that was before she threw her cell phone at the photographer, Naomi Campbell style. She kept running away from the "set" as fast as her size 4's could carry her. Also, that pretty bow I had lovingly placed in her flaxen curls? She ripped it from her head every moment she had that was not spent by her taking off her shoes.

Rebecca decided that her arms up in the air made for the most interesting pose. I disagreed. After promising her cookies, ice cream, my savings account, whatever she wanted to just "stand still and smile" we were finally able to get a decent shot. I expect my mother of the year award will be arriving any day now.

After about 15 minutes, I was done, the kids were done, and Mr. Bob had a sort of blank stare in his eyes. I viewed the results on the screen and ended up buying 6 of the poses... so....
12 sheets of pictures: $96
Two Black bows for Sarah's hair that ended up in my pocket: $7
Ice Cream for Rebecca: $5
Not having to do this for one more year: priceless....

Amanda Black's Friday

I began my Christmas season by waking up at 4 am the day after Thanksgiving and venturing out in to the cold winter's morn to partake in the tradition known as "Black Friday". As my last name is "Black", I feel a certain kinship to things associated with the dark color.
My town has acquired a Kohl's and Target since the last holiday season, so I bundled up, drove through my local Starbucks (also new) and prepared to face the masses. I had no idea what I was in for.....
Target did not open until 6 am, so Kohl's was my obvious first choice. I had my list, I was ready to go. Pulling in to the shopping complex, my mom, who was riding shotgun, proclaimed, "Is that... people?" I, carefully observing all traffic laws, eyes on the road, hands at 10 and 2, had no clue what she was talking about. I briefly wondered if she thought the makers of my fine Starbucks coffee (if you are reading this Starbucks, I love you and will accept any and all gifts of your delish product) were producing Soylent Green to use as my coffee's whipped topping.

Nope, apparently Mom is not quite ready for the Alzheimer's wing at the loony bin, she was correct, there were people in line as far as my smudged glasses could see, wrapped around the outside of the super- Target (our Target apparently has super powers and a cape, that makes it SUPER).

The six year old in me wanted to immediately jump in the line. Surely there must be something great going on if people were lining up an hour before the store opened. When I mentioned this to my mother, over her snorts and laughter I think I made out the words "you can get in line by yourself".

The sixteen year old in me huffed "fine, but if I miss out on any awesomeness, you can only blame yourself". Apparently, she felt she could live with that.

We parked in the Kohl's lot and much to my chagrin I was able to park relatively close to the entrance. Where were the screaming masses scrambling for parking? Walking into the store, everything was well stocked, and the lines were moving in a neat, orderly, fashion. Where were the infamous BF fights? I wanted action!!!
The whole experience at Kohl's was....well, fine. There were no fights for the last Sonoma sweater, no one was clawing another's eyes out to get to the last piece of Fiesta ware. It was actually a pleasant experience.

We then drove to Target (not the same one that earlier had the Soy lent Green brigade outside) and on our way I stopped by Starbucks for another delicious beverage. (oh you Seattle brewing fools, I heart you). My mom was beginning to question my addiction to the mocha peppermint latte.

I parked a little further away from the entrance of Target than was required by Kohl's. It was at this point, only 7:00 am. (And yes, that is two lattes so far, but who's counting?) I was armed with my list, having scoured the BF ads online for the past month. Everything on my list was located in the toy section (Moms, have you ever noticed a need to ALWAYS go to the toy section even when the kids are with you? I mean the one time you can easily get away without going?) I reached the toy section and found the first aisle I needed to go down. Three ladies and three carts blocked my path. No, they were not shopping, they were chatting!!! Apparently," Peggy", hadn't seen "the other Peggy" since church on Sund-blah blah blah... get out of the way ladies.

I did not say any of the thoughts roaming my head, just smiled and politely said "excuse me". What I should have said? "Hey, ladies! There is a place for chatting, and the toy aisle at Target on BLACK FRIDAY is not it!"

Any who, I went to the spot where the digital camera I wanted to by my DD3 (on sale, 20 dollars) and gasp, the slot was empty....sold out. As was everything else on my list (of 3 items, but still!)

Then it hit me... this is why people get into fights, etc, on BF. They are irritated and disappointed that they woke up at an ungodly hour, made it out the door with the minimum amount of caffeine and weaved through the crowd for....nothing.

Silver Lining: My Target has a Starbucks inside....I swear it's better than booze....

Merry Christmas in other words....

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious

persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2009, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great (not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country or is the only "AMERICA" in the western hemisphere), and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms:
-This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal.
-It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting.
-It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/himself or others, and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.

This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year, or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher,

Amanda Black

My First Post!

I am now entering the world of blogging. If you are reading this either you are bored, or you already know me... or maybe a combination of the two.
I am Amanda, mom to Rebecca (3) and Sarah (1). They are my little divas.

When Rebecca was an infant I called her my 7 lb dictator- the pounds may change but the sentiment remains the same. Rebecca is my girly girl. She loves make up, ballet, dress up, and princesses.

Sarah is a diva in her own right. She is loud and bossy. She loves the "Wiggles" and dancing. She likes to play with pretend instruments.

Well, that's enough for now, but stay tuned.....