Friends with Benefits

Today I found myself in the position of asking my 14 year old daughter what her “boyfriend” meant by a “friend with benefits”.  No parenting class and no amount of research in the world on how to raise a teenager could have prepared me for this.  Am I that stupid??
This is how it went down:
The Teen:  Mom, can I go to the movies with [insert boyfriend’s name here] and his one friend who is a girl?  She’s one of his friend’s with benefits.
Me:  What movie?  Whe…..WHAT??  Did you just say “friends with benefits”?? 
The Teen:  Yes.  Can I go?
Me:  What is this “friends with benefits”??  The name of the movie?
The Teen:  Um….No?
Me: 


The Teen: 



Seriously.
I’m trying to figure out if “friends with benefits” has some other meaning when you are talking to a 14 year old.  Does it mean “a friend that pays your way to the movie”?  Does it mean “a friend that will let you cheat on the test”?
I consulted a friend about this situation and she thought maybe it was “a friend that was gonna help them get free popcorn at the movie.”
I was afraid, yet I consulted the spouse.  Oh gawd, I know right??!! 
His response?



Oh yeah, I’m thinking he KNOWS there is no other meaning to FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS other than the one we know as adults.
So I researched it. 
According to Mark Cichocki, R.N., a nurse educator, this is what he found out after talking to a few teenagers:  
 “While talking to a group of teenagers recently, I heard a term that was completely new to me. Many of the teens talked about "friends with benefits". Being a naive father of three teenage daughters I had to ask what that meant exactly. I was shocked to find out that many teenagers from 14 to 18 years of age were developing a new type of sex only relationship. It was explained to me that boys and girls were "hooking up" for sex, both intercourse and oral, but did not consider themselves to be dating or in a intimate monogamous relationship. They considered one another to be "friends with benefits". The more questions I asked the more concerned I became.”

Excuse me while I puke  now.
Seriously.  I just don’t know if I am going to survive these teenage years.  How can I keep my baby safe?  How can I keep her from making the bad decisions??
Is she THAT naive that she didn’t realize what [insert her             EX - boyfriend’s name here] was referring to when he said that??  Did she think “Friends with Benefits” was the new TEEN CLUB?? 
Holy effing schnazzballs!  Can you imagine??




How do you keep your teenage daughters AWARE without putting ideas into their heads, yet giving them the knowledge to know right from wrong?  How do you keep them SAFE??

Chocolate Talks

Ok, once again I have been MIA for a bit.  You see, I sort of took a job that is not in my best interest, and I’ve been very quiet about it because I am sort of embarrassed at even saying I’m employed there.  BUT….guess what??  Happy Blog Fodder Day!! 

 

 

I QUIT!!

I sat down to write my resignation.  I should be a pro at this by now, but unfortunately, I am not.  It’s always difficult for me to say what is appropriate. 

I carefully got situated in front of my computer and began to type….

 

 

Somehow this didn’t sound right so I asked the spouse if it seemed a bit harsh.  He thought “yes, definitely yes”. 

I tried again…..

 

 

Ugh…still doesn’t quite FEEL right. 

With a bit of badass bitchiness a heavy heart I tried again……

 

 

I asked another source if this would be sufficient.  The response was….

 

”Tell ‘em how you REALLY feel!!”

 

Bwaaaahahahahaha!!  I thought I did just that!!

One last try….I know I can get it right this time.

 

 

OMG, I should make a side business out of writing resignations for people.  This is way too much fun!

I came to my senses and wrote a generic I’m-leaving-you-as-soon-as-possible resignation and I stomped into the facility….

……after business hours when I knew the boss would have been long gone…..

…..in disguise……

 

 

….and QUICKLY slid my letter under the boss’s door, held my head up high because I was proud, did not turn back, did not concern myself with the fact that someone may have seen me….and……

….RAN LIKE HELL because I’m a muther-truckin WUSS!!

 

 

Next time I’m going to take my Uncle’s advice and hand in my resignation the way he suggested.  After all, he’s “seasoned”, wise, and really has AN AWESOME SENSE OF HUMOR!!!

 

 

Nothing says it better than a box of chocolates!! 

 

Sayonara!!    May you rest in peace……

 

Hasta la vista baby!!!

 

 

再見/再见

 

 

Ohhh Hello Kitty…..you are so silly.

 

Too bad it’s not Valentine’s Day!!

 

 

I know, I know….cool, eh??

What Makes Me Happy?

I’ve been thinking lately and trying to focus on only what makes me happy.  I’m tired of bitching at the spouse about not taking out the trash.  I’m tired of nearly chaining my teen to her room to get her to clean it.  I’m tired of threatening the two short people that live here, aka the 3 and 4 year old, that I’m about to get out my trash bag so they better start picking up the toys that they don’t want out on the curb come Sunday night.  I’m tired of the insane drivers out there that can’t seem to wait their turn.  Blow your horn at me one more fucking time and it’s WAR, baby, W. A. R.

I’m tired of ignorant, nasty, rude people.  Don’t pretend you don’t know who you are.  Seriously.  Asshats.

 

AND I DON’T LIKE THEM.

 

So….what DOES make me happy? 

I’ve made a list.

• The short people that live here falling asleep before 8pm.
• The teen actually doing what is asked of her.
• The trash taken out before I have to roll my eyes and groan that not even the piece of lint I picked up off the floor will fit in.
• A new bag in the trash can on the rare occasion I’m not the one that has taken it out.  (Doesn’t it suck when you throw something away and realize there is no fucking bag AFTER the trash has left your hand???)
• Caribou Coffee….specifically a White Chocolate Mocha No Whip please.  These are da bomb!!  If could marry one, I would.

 

 

• A cashier that says, “Hi.”  That’s all.  Just “Hi.”  will do        it.  I’m not asking for the damn world here on a silver platter.  Just have a freakin clue!

 

Moving right along…..

 

• A good hair day.
• My kids.  Yes, they make me happy.  I swear they do.  Oh, okay….so I want to beat them several times a day, but after each beating…yep…I am happy with them.
• My spouse, when he vacuums without me nagging, and he rubs my feet after each 12 hour shift that I work, and he offers to give me a massage without any sex-pectations.   Oh, and he makes me extremely happy when he does all the laundry and cleans the entire house just because I am working night shift 12 hours on a Saturday and a Sunday.   What?  Ok, you are right…he doesn’t do any of these things.  But it sure would make me happy if he did.
• Quiet.  Peace. And. Quiet.  Simply stated?  Shut the fuck up!

 

• My dog.

 

  

• My patients at work.  Except for the select few assholes that have me walking up and down the hall just to see if they took a shit or not…most of them make me happy.
• My days off.
• A kitchen big enough to have a table in it.  Yep…my kitchen sucks holy fucking monkey balls and I’m not afraid to admit it. 
• The fact that I used to be “Royalty”.  It is true…you can check out the facts HERE. 
• My blog…and all the other blogs I read….they make me happy.  I can chill out, drink my White Mocha, forget I have children and read some really good stuff.  What pisses me the fuck off is that I don’t have enough time to do this.  What the hell, Life?  Can’t I just be a mindless, no-responsibility slacker and still make enough cash to pay the bills? 

 

So….these are just a few of the things that make me happy.  What are YOUR happy things?  Your favorite things?  Leave a comment…I’d love to know!  Maybe I can steal one or two….

 

Raising Animals

For those of you that have read my blog before, you know that I am a working mom with 3 kids, ages 3, 4, and 14, and a spouse that is still in training.  I’ve posted before about my children’s antics, and how they never cease to amaze me.  From my chaotic mornings to the day I thought I lost Little Man to me having my Biggest Mommy Tantrum Ev-ahhh  ….. I’ve had my share of reasons as to why I feel this “parenting” business is not about raising children, but it’s about RAISING ANIMALS.

Yesterday this was confirmed.

Thank you, Little Man.

You see….before Little Man, I only knew the workings of little girls.  Little girls are easy.  Little girls don’t climb.  Little girls don’t jump off the highest surface they can get up onto.  Little girls are decent.

Little girls would never think to pee outside…..

 

Not that my girls are angels or anything of the sort.  They can fight like cats.  And when I say CATS, I don’t mean cute little furry kittens, oh hell to the no!  I mean CATS!  The big furry ones with pointy teeth and sharp claws.  Animals…..

 

But yesterday…..OMFG…..this is a true story. 

The spouse was in the bathroom upstairs.  I ran downstairs to flip a load of clothes.  I faintly hear the spouse tell Little Man, “Hang on…I’m coming out.”  Now, Little Man is a bit over 3 years old and ever since our talk about the “poop police coming”, and also since I made him walk around without any pants or Pull-Ups until he took a shit on the potty, he has been pooping in the potty.  Like clockwork.  God forbid we are anywhere but near a potty at 5pm. 

So, when the spouse didn’t open the bathroom door right away when Manny jiggled the knob saying he had to poop, Little Man took matters into his own hands.

I came upstairs to the spouse asking where Manny was.  I said I didn’t know, I had been in the laundry room.  He relayed that Manny said he had to poop and maybe he went downstairs to use that bathroom.  I thought, oh shoot….and I turned off all the lights not knowing he was down there!

So I go downstairs.

No Manny.

No Manny in any of the rooms upstairs either.  We ask Little Lady where he went.  Little Lady, being 4 going on 24, says he went outside. 

WTF??  Alone??

Again??

We go outside to find Little Man standing where the dog usually does her business, his pants around his ankles, just looking at us.

And we look at this….

 

 

The interrogation from the Dad begins…..

“Manny.  Is this YOUR POOP???”

 

Well….it certainly looked like his poop.  And he WAS standing there with his pants around his ankles.  And he WAS a wee bit embarrassed to look us in the eye…..

 

 

And here I was, worried about the Little Man spewing F-Bombs in public rendering me totally humiliated.  I swear, if he ever feels the need to take a crap outside in public, I will personally check myself in at the nearest psychiatric facility.

What have YOUR little animals done to make you re-think this parenting business? 

Oh, and if you want to know more about my Little Man-imal….you can read it here.  Just don’t say I haven’t warned you.

 

Happy Thursday!!

All By My Self

There is some part of the English language that I wish I could just do away with.  Oh, for Pete’s sake, I’m not talking about my potty mouth, I could NEVER do away with THAT!  I’m talking about things that I have to keep repeating….Day. After. Day. After. Day.

Like….

Do you have to pee??

Are you stinky?

 

“Who??  Me??  Not stinky….”

 

And also I’d like to stop having to say….

NO!!

STOP!!

Keep your hands to yourself!

Who used my brush??  Where is it??

We do NOT eat in the living room!

Where’s Manny?  (He’s forever disappearing)

 

“Here I am!”

 

 

There are also some things that I wish my children would stop saying…

Look at me!

Watch this!

Mom!  Mom!  Mom!!

He touched me!!

I can’t see the TV!!

He’s not sharing!!

Where’s Manny?

 

“Just going to work, Mom.”

 

Some things that I hope to NEVER stop hearing…

I love you, Mom!

I did it!  Alllll byyyy My. Self!

 

At least her shoes match….this time.

 

And I would die if they stopped saying….

You’re the best!

Will you sit with me, Mom?

I found him!!

 

Totally exhausted.

 

 

 Some things other people say that make me cringe just a wee bit…

Can I help?  (The help of a three year old does not always end well)

He was here a minute ago…..

I thought you were watching him.  (Oh dear Spouse…..what am I going to do with you???)

 

I did it!  Allll byyyy myyyy self! 

 

Now….I wonder WHO on earth taught my Little Man that it’s ok to take a piss off the back of the deck??

 

Like father.  Like Son.

 

Happy Thursday!!

 

A Sign

Signs….seriously, they are everywhere.  Sometimes I understand them….sometimes I just stop and ponder….

 

 

Seriously…is this not redundant?? 

The kind of “sign” I’m talking about is a “sign” we give with our hands.  Like a wave “hello”, a thumbs up when something is done right, a “talk to the hand” kinda sign when a co-worker is a bitch-bitching away…..

Sometimes we see people and they give us a sign and we smile…

 

I love you.

 

Sometimes we get a sign and we would like to pummel the other person with a sledgehammer….

 

Loser.

 

A few weeks ago we had some people over and my sister and I were having a conversation with her daughter-in-law.  It was a little noisy with other people talking, it was late in the evening, and we may or may not have had a bit too much wine, but we laughed hysterically at our wit when we recognized a “gesture” as a “sign in the making”!  You see, her daughter-in-law was describing a website window with 2 screens, one on top of the other…..

Well, this is what I pictured anyways with they way her hands were demonstrating the screen like so….

 

“There’s one window on top of the other…..”

 

But then….you see, my sister got all lost in the conversation, again, maybe having something to do with the wine consumption, and she said, “What the hell was that with your hands??”  ….and she made the gesture.

It was explained once again, and then my sister stated, “Oh, I thought that was some kind of sign you were making at me….”

So then….we looked at each other, and because we think so much alike, we both made the sign at each other and said, “Grrrrr, fuck you!”

(Cuz that’s how we roll)

I know, I know….you may not be getting this whole “sign” thing here, and if not, it’s okay because my spouse was not really laughing too much either.   I figured he just didn’t get it.  (Sometimes that happens….)  Or maybe the alcohol had gotten to him too.  Regardless, we are so gonna use this sign and start a trend.  In fact….my spouse, who I thought was clueless when we had this conversation, was the first person to use the sign other than my sister and I.

My teen’s facebook got hacked.  After the spouse posted something about all hackers getting crucified or something by the Sicilian side of my daughter’s family, he looked at me and said THIS:

 

“Hackers beware!”

 

So, yeah….and then some!!

He WAS paying attention to the conversation.

Just when you think you’ve got ‘em figured out.

 

Happy Monday!!

 

Change

 

Mr. Sake here. My turn again……

I HATE CHANGE!!!  I’m not talking about the jingly coins floating around in my front pocket here, I’m talking about new circumstances – as in The-Times-Are- A- Changin’ kind of change. There are very few times I have been thrilled with change. The day my Lady and I became Mister and Misses - that was awesome! The days each of our younger ones were born – exceptional.  The day I got my new shiny yard tractor – ON TOP OF THE WORLD!!!!!

(Insert eye-roll from Mrs. Sake)

The change that bugs me involves my being a creature of habit. I like stuff to stay just the way it is, the way that I am used to. I want to be able to traverse my life with my eyes closed, knowing exactly what’s coming next. The reality is that with my eyes closed I have gotten a few (several ….. hundred) deep bruises. (I tell him to WATCH OUT on a daily basis, but…..)

CHANGE.  I love my old cell phone. So I took the big step and got a new one – same brand, newer “better” model. AHEM. Hack-hack. Excuse me, had to clear my throat. (He’s been whining all day about not being able to figure it out.  Shhhhhh….I promised not to tell.)

CHANGE.  My hair is not turning grey – IT’S TURNING FLIPPIN’ LOOSE!!!! Enuf said.  (Silence from Mrs. Sake…)

CHANGE.  WE’RE OUT OF COFFEE!!!!!!!   (NEXT TIME PUT IT ON THE LIST!!!!)

CHANGE.  The kids are growing. They are becoming less/more dependent on me. No more diapers (good change). Cleaning the bathroom every two hours due to poor aim – yep – bad change.  (Now if we can teach Mr. Sake how to aim we’ll be in business!)

CHANGE.  The Tween becomes a teen – bad bad bad bad bad! Makeup, hair, BOYFRIEND! Not in this house, girly! (Mrs. Sake nixed my idea right away)  :)

CHANGE.  WHO MOVED MY HAT???!!!!!   (It’s on your head…just saying….)

CHANGE.  New office assistant at work – the owner’s sister - bad change. I’ve been here 14 years lady. You are an ASS-istant. I am upper-level management. GET OUTTA MY FACE!

CHANGE.  Kids go from tricycles to bicycles …….. Where’s the first-aid kit?

CHANGE.  Wife gets new job (#2 in six months) - with new hours…….. Where’s MY first-aid kit?

CHANGE.  WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP MY JACKET IN THE CLOSET???!!!!!!   (I say he’s lucky to HAVE a closet….)

CHANGE.  WallyWorld remodels into a super-store. I can’t even find the damn light bulbs!!! 

 

  (Mr. Manly-Man…..too stubborn to ASK?)

CHANGE.  DAWN DISH SOAP IS THE BEST – WAYYYYYY BETTER THAN THIS CRAP!!!!!

CHANGE.  The Teen wants to try new stuff, every fad, experience more – but doesn’t want to try washing the dishes. Maybe it’s the soap.

CHANGE.  The four year old becomes part of the house administration. She’s got a quicker wit than me.  (Did I tell you the one where Mr. Sake had to go for an MRI due to “mental status changes”???  Teeheehee!!!) 

CHANGE.  My knees are killing me. What do you mean arthritis? You got your medical degree where? Cracker Jack?

CHANGE.  WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M NOT YOUNG ANY MORE???!!!!!  (MRI #2?)

CHANGE.  The recliner is mine.  Get your teenage ass off it and find somewhere else to speed-text.

CHANGE.  Who used my last razor?  WTF?  How the hell am I supposed to maintain my dignity after shaving with a PINK one?? (I say, “Suck it Up, Fuzzy Face!”)

CHANGE.  WE’RE OUT OF COFFEE!!!  (Oh dear Lord…wasn’t this already mentioned?  Put it on the fucking list already!)

…..and yes, pocket change is bad too.  Pocket change means we’re spending money we really shouldn’t.  More potential debt.  Bad change.  (Retail Therapy)

And by the way…don’t you think for one second that I didn’t notice the CHANGES that Mrs. Sake made to this post.  How could I not?  They are purple!  Geesh!  What do you think I am?  An idiot???

~ Mr. Sake

A-hem….does anyone see COFFEE on the list???  I thought not.

~ Mrs. Sake

What Did You Say???

Well, since I don’t have a wholelotta time, I figured I would join in with Sippy Cups Are Not for Starbucks  and give you a taste of MY : 

 

 

Sitting here trying to think while listening to Little Man and Little Lady play Mario Kart on the Wii….it’s rather distracting.  In fact, everything is rather distracting lately.  I blame my current employment situation since I am being pulled in every direction there.  Unfortunately, I have 4 more days there at their beck and call.  I’m hoping to come out of there without any BLOOD STAINS. 

This week I turned 44.  You heard me…..Forty-fucking-FOUR!  Is that a crock of shit or what??   It’s really puzzling for me to even THINK of myself NEAR fortyfuckingfour because I still have a couple of THESE to raise….

 

 

That’s Little Man, and he’s three.  I also have a 4 year old and a 13 year old that will be 14 next week!!

Ok, go ahead…say it….What the fuck was I thinking???

I wasn’t.

Add my 44-and-three-quarter-year-old spouse (yes, he’s much older than I) that acts like he’s TWO most of the time and you get one crazyass fourtyfuckingfour year old lady!!

I’ve also recently started a low-carb….

Wait…let me pause and say the two year old mentioned above is editing my blog while I am typing….No, not Little Man, I would be referring to my spouse…..

 

 

As I was saying….I’ve also recently started a low-carb diet.  It’s really not so bad eating pepperoni…..pork rinds….cheese……although it’s a little worrisome since I have my nursing background and I KNOW the sodium and the fat and the sodium….oh, and the SODIUM….did I mention the sodium???  I know it’s not good for me.  BUT…here’s the thing…I’m not swelling up at all like before.  How the fuck does the body work anyways???

 

My Little Man got a bruise on his cheek at the sitter’s this week.  I was pissed.  I asked him what happened and he said one of the other kids squeezed his cheeks and said, “you can’t have any gum!”  It really wasn’t making sense and I was getting even more ticked off so I asked his sister.  Hell, she’s four, she knows everything, right?  She looks at me and says, “Mackenzie squeezed his face like a guppy!!” 

 

Ouch.  Seriously??

 

What’s up with that?  When I asked the sitter, she had no idea it even happened and that pissed me off even more than my son being made into a guppy.   Who doesn’t notice THIS?

 

 

Oh Dear Lord….on top of the guppy incident, Little Man has been saying something that sounds similar to “Fuck”…or “Fucky fucky fuck”…..could be “truck”, “trucky trucky truck”??  “Ducky duck”??  Oh please….tell me it isn’t so.    In fact, I think it just came out of his mouth 2 seconds ago.  I did a  180 in my chair and I was ready  for battle….

 

 

And at that very moment…the four year old that knows it all, from squeezing faces like guppies, to when to say “I love you, Mom”…..she says, as if she is only informing us because we don’t always understand what Little Man is saying…yes, she says,

“I think he said fuck again.”

Straight faced.

Just stating a fact.

Lilli-OMG-dont-ever-say-that-again-OMG-that-is-a-very-very-VERY bad word!!!  (I think I’m having palpitations)

“I love you, Mom.”

I love you, too, Lil.

And this is when I decided….I am NOT up for Mother-of-the-Year once again.  Fuck.

Big sigh.