Done and Done

Well... with about 19 hours to spare, I am done with the sewing of costumes, buying of accessories and set up for Halloween. Well, not entirely done- as I still have a pumpkin to carve, candy bags to throw together, and little gems to glue onto a Cinderella dress... fuck- I guess I am not done... but the big work is out of the way.

My hands are now in full on rebellion against my Halloween Cause, as my fingers have spent the better part of the last few weeks asleep, and have now started the night time sabotage of sending shooting pains up to my elbow as I sleep. Those are big fun- especially when they wake me up whimpering like a whooped pup. So, I finally broke down and made an appointment to start my third trip through the tricare referral system to get my Carpal Tunnel Syndrome looked at. No big surprises that it would come to this- sewing, gaming, typing and 6 years of color-guard in my past with all the fun-fun ripped tendon injuries that went with it.... I am really hoping for a steroid shot and a pat on the head to send me on my merry crazy ass way. We'll see on Monday... after Halloween, and before I have to start the holiday stressing.

I will be posting costume pics both here and on my sewing site... If I am going to suffer for my work, I might as well show it off like the pompous ass I am.

Suckishness

Saturday night we went to a Halloween party. Good times were had by all, but in hindsight when one has been exposed to a virus, it may not be in one's best interest to stand outside in 31 degree weather for 4 hours.
That's right- it is this season's first cold, and I am miserable. The husband has had this shit for a while now, and I thought I had escaped it. Boy, was I wrong. My head feels like it has been through a cement mixer.

Just went into the bathroom to soak and alleviate my uber achy ass, and found the water to be running piss yellow today. Fucking. Awesome. Apparently someone has been playing with the pipes downstairs. So, no bath- at least not til later. Instead, I opted for laying down for a little while... The fire department was nice enough to fuck that up by testing the building's alarm system. Not only was I jolted hard out of that blissful and warm "almost" sleep state by the screaming of the world's loudest alarm, but it scared the piss out of the cat too, and she clawed the ever living fuck out of me in her panic to run away from... well... whatever she thought was going to eat her alive.

Screw it... Guess I'll go clean something. Might as well have something to be pissy about while I feel like a can of smashed assholes.

Indulgence

Last week I celebrated a big anniversary. It has been one year of uterus free living for me. Nothing has changed since, really (Except the absence of the horrible symptoms the accompanied my 21 day cycle of menses)... I still wince at pregnant women, and despise the thought of diapers, potty training, and the use of the word "No" 400% more than now. Not that I didn't enjoy my kids as little guys-I did. But they were mine. :) Uterus free is for me! No more painfully crippling cramping, and days of mess. I was fearful I might have regret over the loss of my child bearing years. That one day I may want another child, and it not be an option. And then- I go out and see other people's kids acting like shitheads, see my kids acting right, and know I did the right thing. There is no way I would want to start from the beginning again- with "No." and "Hot." and "Don't touch."... with diapers, and bottles, and baby gates. No way I could start over with toddler discipline, and tantrums, etc....

On that note...
*begin rant*
On my other site a woman made a post regarding her toddler acting the ass in a store by screaming in the cart. She insisted that not giving in to him by paying attention to it was her way of dealing with his asinine behavior in the store. It's a good idea, but the concept is entirely flawed.

Should your child become one of those screaming fucking brats in the commissary/BX/Wal-mart there are a few things obvious to me. In the past his screaming shit has gotten him what he wants- at least at some part- either the candy/toy/attention... at home, should your child start a screaming purple faced tantrum it is absolutely the right thing to do to walk away, and leave the little shit where he flops, and let him scream, kick and fit to his hearts content, while you busy yourself with dishes, needlepoint, or a shower.

The store is not a place to do this kind of thing. Why? Because you may be ignoring the little bastard's screaming and thinking you are proving something to him... you're not. What you are proving is "I will not pay attention to your bad behavior... but everyone else in the store will, and your screaming can embarrass me, and punish me for not giving in to you." Kids are incredibly intuitive. They notice me and the 15 other people in the aisles looking at him acting like a shit. He's getting his attention, lady, trust me- and he knows he is making you feel stupid and inadequate. Hey, let's not forget people like me, who have kids who know how to act in public, and don't want to listen to your screaming brat having a tantrum. Take the little bastard home, then institute above policy of letting him tantrum all by himself until he passes out or pukes.

How did my kids learn to behave in a store? Well, it wasn't through a nice pretty Doctor Spock method of quiet words and reasoning. When my son started to pitch a fit in the commissary, I told him once, "It stops, or we leave and go home, where you will be punished, and get nothing." He didn't stop. Guess what? I grabbed him, my daughter, (who was an infant at the time), and my purse and left the store. I walked out, dragging a kicking screaming child, and left a full cart full of groceries standing in the aisle where he started his shit.

Thinking back, I specifically remember I needed milk and other basic staples that day- but nothing was so crucial that it couldn't wait 3 hours for Daddy to get home, so I could go back to the store without the kids. When I left for the store later- I made damn sure my son knew I was going back- and that I would not only be going without him- but that he would not be getting anything special from the trip.

This practice stands to this day. Never would I consider making other people listen to my screaming child while he is acting like a shit as a viable practice. Does it make me a total bitch that I don't want to hear your fucking brat doing his impression of an air raid siren while I am shopping? How about you stupid bastards who let your kids run around restaurants while the food is being prepared, because it is easier than making them sit down and be still? Oh yes, the rule stands in eating establishments too... act foolish- we leave. Period. One day I may talk about the night I left the Olive Garden in the middle of our meal, taking my son outside, and asking the server to bring the check to me there.

The bottom line for me... get control of your children. If you can't do it right then and there- remove them from the situation and deal with them. Make a point of DEALING with your children. That does not include letting him fire off his face like a fire engine siren while you act like Helen Keller, and continue to shop for your shit. It is not a negotiation, or reasoning that is always needed... "No." is a complete sentence, and if you teach them that early enough life will be easier. For you, for them... and for me.

It's pretty bad when my kid looks at me and comments about how terrible your kids act. Don't wanna be the bad mean guy when they are two or five years old because you have to discipline them? Can't handle making them upset or listening to them cry? Be prepared to be the bad parent standing in the principal's office when they are ten- or the court room when they are nineteen.

*end rant*

Kitchen Hell Story

So last weekend we had a friend over and I made a fabulous dinner of prime rib, mashed taters and other good fixin's, (don;t forget the au jus). When I went to make the mashed potatoes, I was horrified to find no butter in the fridge. Yes, I use butter- full fat, from the cow, bad reputation butter in my cooking, but I digress. All II had was margarine- but it would have to do as the roast was already resting.

When I put the hand mixer into the potatoes, and started to cream them like usual- they turned into what looked like bread dough. Theuy stuck and pulled away from the sides of the bowl, they got shiny- and just fucking disgusting looking. I was convinced the lack of butter had fucked them up. Now, they tasted okay, but looked icky; nothing like the light and fluffy whipped masterpieces my family and friends have come to know me for. Yes, it is stupid, but I do pride myself on what rolls out of my kitchen- especially in front of guests. Cooking good stick-to-your-ribs homestyle meals with a tiny touch of elegance is one thing I do well.

Night before last, I went to make potatoes again to go with a Dr. Pepper and pineapple glazed ham. I had butter, so no worries. Peeling the taters was a bitch, as they were tiny... the ones that come in cans were bigger than these pitiful things, and I was convinced I would end up taking the skin off my thumbs in the process. I did get them skinless and chopped and boiled without a horror movie bloody outcome... until I went to mash them.

Again with the bread dough effect- shiny, sticky, nasty mess. Apparently it is something with those fucking potatoes, and I was seriously grossed out, pissed off, and in despair. What the shit is that? Where did the commissary find these little spuds of hell on earth? The kids ate them. The hub and I graciously passed on the portions served on our plates. If I had one left I would go throw it at that horrid woman that is always on TV promoting the quality of the commissary, Kay. I think I will be sticking with pilaf for a couple of weeks- until they find a new supplier of tubers. Fucking EW!

Wow- what a domestic story. And it came from me... how funny is that?

Tidbits

~It's PDoc day. Yippee? Have to go in and say "Yes, I am still crazy enough to need meds. No, I am not crazy enough to do anything stupid." I really fucking hate going down there- I wish he was on this base instead of Ram-shaft. He's a great Psychiatrist, and as any bipolar will tell you, it is hard to find good ones who don't over or under diagnose your problem, and bounce you out with a script for Prozac.

~This whole uproar about Iran is pissing me right the fuck off. Now I am not demeaning the Jewish populace's right to hate him or be pissed off.... BUT... To cause all this stink over him visiting here? For one thing- diplomacy is a good thing- even with an asshole. More over, and this is what chaps my ass, he is a politician. A lying, rotten to the core, piece of shit politician who spends his day shoveling bullshit down the throat of his countrymen, while trying to say things they want to hear. Just like our lying, rotten to the core, piece of shit politicians. You have to disbelieve 60% of the shit that rolls out of any politician's mouth, and doubt the other 40%, no matter what language they speak.

~One costume down, another ready to assemble, and two to go... the men's are gonna be a snap- 3 pieces, plus glitz. I will post pics, when I get them all done, and have a free sec to get the camera, import and export photos and update my sewing site.

~I have not been playing much Halo, despite the release of the most awesome Halo 3. My sewing schedule has had much to do with it (About 80%)... but there has also been some behind the scenes "clan drama" that I will not go into until it is resolved one way or another. Not that I am gonna quit the clan- just take a break for a little while- Kinda like Peter Gibbons in Office Space... "I don't like it, and I'm just not gonna go." At least for a week or so, while I sit back and popcorn it through this steaming pile of bullshit drama that I have found myself hip deep in. For those of you that I DO play with on a regular basis- gimmie a call and I will sign on for a closed room, but I'll be damned if I am going to play with a risk of ending up in a room with a whiny shit I would rather risk jail time for battery than listen to for a single second.

~Crap... gotta go. Don;t want to be late for my head shrinking.